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THE JOLLY ROVERS WERE OFF AT LAST 
Canoe Boys and Camp-Fires 


/ 


CANOE BOYS AND 
CAMPFIRES Wl 

Or, 

Adventures on Winding Waters 


BY 

WILLIAM MURRAY GRAYDON 

Author of “From Lake to Wilderness,” “With Puritan and 
Pequod,” “ The Camp in the Snow,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW YORK 

CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS 


Two Copies- rtcceived 



JUL 3 190? 



BEST BOOKS FOR BOYS 


The Young Builders of Swiftdale. By Allen Chapman. 
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Canoe Boys and Camp Fires. By William Murray 
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Copyright, 1907, by 
Chatterton-Peck Company 


Canoe Boys and Campfires 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Introducing the Boys g 

II. Planning the Trip 17 

III. The Cruise Begins 23 

IV. Adrift in the Darkness 32 

V. Disappearance of Nugget 40 

VI. The Lost Found 48 

VII. Batters and Joe 57 

VIII. How THE Day Dawned 74 

IX. A Safe Shelter 82 

X. A Tramp Across Country • . 90 

XL Searching for the Camp 99 

XI 1 . Over the Cliff 107 

XIII. What Clay Shot 116 

XIV. Caught in the Whirlpool 125 

XV. Randy’s Proposition 133 

XVI. A Shattered Delusion 142 

XVII. The Storm Breaks 149 

XVIII. At the Mercy of the Tempest 156 

XIX. Adrift on a Log 163 

XX. Mr. Dude Moxley 170 

XXL A Mysterious Warning 178 

XXII. An Insolent Demand 185 

XXIII. A Daring Attempt 192 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXIV. An Unexpected Encounter 200 

XXV. The Siege Begins 207 

XXVI. Bug’s Proposition 215 

XXVII. The Burning of the Mill 222 

XXVIII. A Good Deed 229 

XXIX. Randy Goes Sailing 236 

XXX. A Night Alarm 243 

XXXI. Stormy Weather 250 

XXXII. The Broken Dam 257 

XXXIII. An Underground Cruise 264 

XXXIV. Despair 270 

XXXV. Nugget Discovers a Light 275 

XXXVI. Home Again 280 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMP- 
FIRES 


CHAPTER I 

INTRODUCING THE BOYS 

I SAY, Ned, this is beginning to grow wearisome,” 
drawled Randy Moore as he tipped his chair against 
the wall, and crossed his feet on the low railing in 
front of him. Clay promised to be here half an 
hour ago,” he went on in an injured tone, “ and if he 
doesn’t come in a few minutes I’m going to have a spin 
on the river. It’s aggravating to sit here and do 
nothing. I can count a dozen boats between the rail- 
road bridge and Bushy Island.” 

I wouldn’t mind being out myself,” said Ned 
Chapman, but we have important business to trans- 
act to-night, Randy, and I think it would be wiser to 
let boating go for once. I have everything planned 
out in ship shape fashion, and it only wants the seal 
of approval from you and Clayton.” 

Oh ! you have, have you ? ” exclaimed Randy with 
a sudden show of interest. “ That’s good news, Ned. 
If Clay knew the momentous question was to be set- 
9 


10 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


tied at last, he would stir himself to get here, wherever 
he is. ril give him ten minutes’ grace.” 

You’ll give him as many minutes as he needs,” 
rejoined Ned. “ There must be some reason for his 
delay. It’s new for him to be late. He’s always the 
first to keep an engagement.” 

“ We’ll know when he comes,” said Randy wisely. 
‘‘ Stop talking now. I want to count the boats. I 
never saw so many on the river before.” 

The two boys were sitting on a narrow balcony that 
projected from the second floor of a neat but unpre- 
tentious boathouse. The rear end of the edifice was 
built against the sloping base of the river bank. 

From the park above a flight of steps, with a single 
hand rail, led down to the main entrance, which was 
on the second floor. The other end of the apartment 
opened on the balcony and faced the Susquehanna 
river. 

From the lower floor, which held a number of boats 
and canoes, a plank walk sloped to the water’s edge, 
ten or fifteen yards away. 

Randy Moore was the fortunate owner of this snug 
little piece of property. The Harrisburg boys en- 
vied him his gun, his dog and his pony, but they 
would have fairly bowed down before him if by so 
doing they could have been put on the list of those 
favored ones who made free and daily use of the boat- 
house. 

A luck fellow ” was the general verdict concern- 
ing Randy, and it was a true one. His father was 


INTRODUCING THE BOYS 


ir 


wealthy and never refused to gratify any reasonable 
desire of his only son. In consequence Randy was 
somewhat spoiled and self willed, but in other ways 
he was really a sensible lad. 

The fact of his own superior position in life never 
occurred to him in relation to his companions. He 
gave himself no airs, and expected no homage or 
adulation. 

His chief fault was a strong and uncurbed will, and 
he unfortunately had a quick temper. He was just 
sixteen years old, and was strong and hardy. He 
had dark eyes and hair, and a pleasing, attractive 
face. 

Randy’s most intimate friend, Ned Chapman, dif- 
fered from him in every respect, and made an admir- 
able foil for the other’s impetuous temperament.. 
Ned’s father was a merchant in moderate circum- 
stances, and he had just reason to be proud of his 
son’s bringing up. i 

Ned was a steady, sensible lad, with very rigid 
ideas of right and wrong. Not that there was any- 
thing “ priggish ” about him. On the contrary, he 
was always the foremost in any undertaking that pro- 
vided a little sport. 

He was intensely fond of outdoor life, and was an 
acknowledged authority on everything relating to fish- 
ing, hunting, canoeing, and boating. But he did not 
allow recreation to interfere with his studies. 

He and Randy were pupils at the academy, and 
both stood high in their classes. 


12 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


Ned was a year older than Randy and half a head 
taller. He had brown hair, grayish brown eyes, and 
a deeply bronzed complexion, the result of living much 
in the open air and under the burning glow of the 
summer sun. 

His face wore an expression of habitual good 
humor, and he had a rare command of his tem- 
per. 

His grave displeasure was more dreaded than a pas- 
sionate outburst would have been. 

And now that two of the characters have been in- 
troduced to the reader, we must resume the thread of 
the story. 

Randy’s stipulated ten minutes had gone by, and 
five additional ones, when a shrill whistle was heard 
in the rear of the boathouse. 

Both doors were open, and when the boys turned 
in their chairs and looked through they saw their 
tardy companion descending the steps that led from 
the top of the bank. 

'' It’s Clay at last,” exclaimed Randy. 

“ And some one with him,” added Ned, as a second 
figure came into view. 

At that instant the lad in the rear slipped, plunged 
head foremost down the remaining half dozen steps, 
knocking Clay to one side, and sprawled out in the 
doorway like a flattened frog. 

Ned and Randy sprang up and hurried through the 
room. 

^‘Why, it’s Nugget,” they exclaimed in great sur-* 


INTRODUCING THE BOYS 


13 


prise. Where did you come from, old fellow ? 
We’re awfully glad to see you.” 

Nugget, otherwise known as Nugent Blundell, rose 
painfully to his feet and glared at the boys. 

“ Why don’t you ask me if I’m hurt? ” he demanded 
wrathfully. ‘‘ I believe you fellows greased those 
steps on purpose.” 

“ See here, Nugget, you don’t believe anything of 
the sort,” said Ned. “ I’m sorry you fell, and I’m 
glad you’re not hurt. Come, old fellow, shake 
hands.” 

Nugget’s face assumed a mollified expression, and 
he accepted a hearty handclasp from Ned and Randy. 
Then he began to brush the dust from his neat gray 
suit and patent leather shoes. 

Meanwhile Clayton Halsey had been fairly choking 
with stifled mirth in a dark corner of the room. He 
now came forward, trying hard to assume an ex- 
pression of gravity. 

He was a short, thickset lad, with a beaming coun- 
tenance, red cheeks, blue eyes, and light curly hair. 
He was in the same class at the academy with Ned 
and Randy, and their constant companion on all oc- 
casions. His father was a prominent lawyer. 

“What kept you so long?” asked Randy in a 
slightly aggrieved tone. 

“ That,” replied Clay, pointing at Nugget. “ He 
arrived in town this afternoon, and came to the house 
after supper. I knew you fellows would be glad to 
see him, so I brought him along. But what do you 


14 


CANO^: BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


think? ’’ added Clay, winking slyly at Ned and Randy,, 
“ Nugget says he’s going canoeing with us.” 

This piece of information produced a startling ef- 
fect. Ned puckered his lips and gave a low whistle. 
Randy stared at Clay for an instant and then burst 
into a laugh. 

Why this avowal on Nugget’s part was received in 
such a peculiar way will be more clearly understood if 
a few words be said about that young gentleman him- 
self. 

Nugget was a New York boy, greatly addicted to^ 
cream colored clothes, white vests, patent leather 
shoes, high collars, gorgeous neckties, kid gloves, and 
canes. 

He was about seventeen years old, and was tall and 
slender. 

He had gray eyes, a sandy complexion and straight 
flaxen hair, which he wore banged over his forehead. 
A vacuous stare usually rested on his face, and he 
spoke in a slow, aggravating drawl. 

Nugget had made the acquaintance of the boys 
during the previous summer, which he spent with his 
uncle in Harrisburg. He was a good enough fellow- 
in some ways, but the several occasions on which he 
had been induced to go on fishing and boating ex- 
cursions, had resulted in disaster and ridicule at poor 
Nugget’s expense. 

“ What Nugget doesn’t know about swell parties,, 
and dancing, and operas isn’t worth knowing,” Clay 
Halsey had said at that time ; “ but when it comes to 


INTRODUCING THE BOYS 


15 


matters of sport he doesn’t know any more than a 
two days’ old kitten.” 

The truth of this terse remark was readily appre- 
ciated by Clay’s companions, and their present amaze- 
ment and consternation on learning that Nugget 
wanted to go canoeing with them, can be easily con- 
ceived. 

'‘Are you in dead earnest, Nugget?” asked Randy 
after a pause. 

" Of course I am,” was the aggressive reply. " I 
don’t see anything funny about it though. I haven’t 
been very well lately, and father let me stop school a 
month ahead of time, and come over here. I know 
he’ll let me go canoeing if I write and ask him.” 

" But canoeing is vastly different from the kind of 
trips you made with us last summer,” said Ned. 
“ There is a good deal of hardship about it. You 
remember what a fuss you used to make over the 
merest trifles.” 

" You’ll have to wear rough flannels and old 
clothes,” added Randy. “ You can’t take kid gloves 
and patent leathers with you.” 

"And you’ll have to sleep on the ground,” put in 
Clay, " and eat coarse food. No chocolate cake and 
ice cream about canoeing.” 

" Oh, stop your chaffing,” drawled Nugget sullenly. 
" I understand all that. I’m not as green as you 
think. If you fellows can stand it I can. Besides 
I’ve been practicing on the Harlem River this spring. 
I paddled a canoe from the Malta boathouse clear to 


i6 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

High Bridge and back. And I didn’t raise a single 
blister.” 

“ I’ll bet you wore gloves,” said Qay mockingly. 

Nugget flushed with anger and confusion, but said 
nothing. 

‘‘ It’s time to stop that now. Clay,” said Ned au- 
thoratively. ‘‘If Nugget wants to go along I don’t 
see any serious objections. No doubt the trip will do 
him lots of good. But that question can be settled 
later. Give us some light, Randy, and I’ll show you 
what I’ve got here.” 


CHAPTER II 


PLANNING THE TRIP 

It was not yet dark outside but Randy lit the hand- 
some brass lamp that stood on the square oaken table, 
and the yellow glow shone into every corner of the 
room. 

The apartment was furnished in the manner most 
dear to the hearts of boys. The polished floor was 
strewn with soft rugs, and the walls were hung with 
pictures and amateur photographs. In the corners 
and over the mantels were fencing foils and masks, 
fishing rods, baseball bats, creels, and several pairs of 
crossed canoe paddles which showed traces of hard 
usage. 

When the boys had dragged chairs to the table and 
seated themselves, Ned drew a little bunch of papers 
from his pocket, and opened them with a flourish. 

When the question of a canoe trip came up a 
month ago,” he began, ** I told you it would be better 
fun to cruise on some small stream than on the Sus- 
quehanna. I knew what I was talking about, because 
I paddled the whole distance last year, from Lake Ot- 
sego to the bay. 

I suggested the Conodoguinet Creek as the best 
17 


i8 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

cruising ground we could find around here, and prom- 
ised to get all the information about it I could. I 
have kept my promise. 

“ Here is a map of the Cumberland Valley on a 
large scale, showing the entire course of the creek, and 
all its windings. You can examine that at your lei- 
sure. First I want to tell you what I have learned. 

“ Of course you knew that the Conodoguinet was 
about the most crooked stream in existence. We have 
evidence enough of that near home. You remember 
the big bend above Oyster’s Dam — three miles 
around, and one field’s length across. Well, there are 
bigger bends than that further up the valley. 

“ From the mouth of the creek to Carlile is just 
eighteen miles in a straight line. By the windings of 
the creek it is ninety miles. The distance was ac- 
curately measured and surveyed a number of years 
ago. 

“ Oakville is twenty miles beyond Carlile, and from 
there I propose that we should start. The upper part 
of the creek is not quite so crooked, but we are sure 
of a cruise of not less than one hundred and fifty 
miles. The creek is navigable all the way from Oak- 
ville, and there are not more than twelve or fifteen 
dams in the whole distance. 

“ The water is deep, and the current is swift in 
some places, sluggish in others. The channel winds 
through heavy timber lands and between high, rocky 
cliffs. The mountains are not far away. The fish- 
ing is splendid, and woodcock and snipe are plentiful.” 


PLANNING THE TRIP 


19 


Here Ned laid down the bundle of notes from which 
he had been reading. 

It will be a delightful trip/’ he added eagerly. 

The Susquehanna can’t compare with it. Instead 
of having to paddle our twenty or thirty miles a day 
in the broiling sun, and camp on gravel bars or grass 
flats, we can drift leisurely in the cool shade of the 
overhanging trees, stop when we please and as long 
as we please, and take our pick of a hundred beautiful 
camping places. In fact it will be a camping trip 
and canoe trip combined. 

'' And what’s more we will be the first to navigate 
the creek. No canoe, or boat either, has ever made 
the winding journey from the head waters to the 
mouth. It is unexplored territory, except to the farm- 
ers and a few stray fishermen. You can take your 
choice now. Which is it to be ? The Susquehanna or 
the Conodoguinet ? ” 

Ned put the papers in his pocket and sat down. 

“ I say the creek, by all means, boys,” exclaimed 
Randy. 

“ Same here ! ” echoed Clay. 

Aw, yes ! that must be a beautiful stream, don’t 
you know,” drawled Nugget, in such a serio-comic 
tone that his companions burst out laughing. 

When quiet was restored the map became the center 
of attraction, and Ned gladly pointed out places of in- 
terest and volunteered all sorts of information. As 
the hours went by the boys waxed enthusiastic over 
the proposed cruise. The details were mostly planned 


20 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


out, and then a long discussion ensued over the choice 
of a name for the club. 

Many titles were suggested and rejected, but finally 
Ned struck a happy combination, and the organiza- 
tion was unanimously christened the “ Jolly Rovers.’^ 

At ten o’clock the boat house was locked up, and 
the boys climbed the bank, and went down through the 
city to their respective homes. 

Now that the cruise was a settled fact the Jolly 
Rovers threw all their energies into needed prepara- 
tions. In the evening, and between school hours they 
were always to be found at Randy’s boat house. 

Ned looked forward to the trip with the keen de- 
light of one who had already tasted the joys of canoe- 
ing. Clay and Randy — who had not been permitted 
to accompany Ned down the Susquehanna the previ- 
ous summer — had bright anticipations to be realized, 
while Nugget was just as eager as his companions. 
It had required much persuasion and many promises 
on Nugget’s part to win the desired permission, and 
when the question was finally decided the new mem- 
ber of the Jolly Rovers was put on a severe course 
of training. 

This embraced rowing, paddling a canoe, and swim- 
ming, and before the month of June was over Nugget 
was fairly proficient in all three. He purchased a 
second hand canoe which Ned picked out for him, and 
without the knowledge of his companions he wrote to 
his father in New York for a canoeing outfit. 

The box duly arrived and was opened one evening 


PLANNING THE TRIP 


21 


in the boathouse. The boys feasted their eyes on 
the array of treasures — fishing rods of spliced bam- 
boo, a portable set of camp dishes that fitted into each 
other, a pair of brass lanterns, rubber blankets, and 
several other articles that were of no practical use on a 
canoe trip. 

In the bottom of the box were four shirts of the 
softest flannel, two pairs of long black woolen stock- 
ings, and a canoeing suit of stout brown cloth — - 
knickerbockers, blouse, and a yachting cap. 

It was a fine outfit, and the boys good naturedly en- 
vied Nugget his luck. 

The date of departure was fixed for the first week 
in July. When the academy closed on the 25th of 
June little or nothing remained to be done in the way 
of preparation — thanks to Ned’s good generalship. 

The four canoes lay in the lower section of the 
boathouse, radiant in new coats of paint. In the big 
closet on the upper floor were packed the varied as- 
sortment of dishware, lanterns, axes, bottles of oil, 
cement, cans of white lead, strips of oiled canvas, 
rolls of blankets, a new A tent, jointed poles for the 
same, and a bundle of iron stakes. 

Such provision as could be taken along — oatmeal, 
rice, sugar, coffee and flour — had been ordered from 
a grocer, to be packed in waterproof jars. 

Ned Chapman had been very properly chosen com- 
modore of the club, and a couple of days before the 
start Randy’s sister Mary presented the Jolly Rovers 
with a pennant of crimson and gold satin. The proper 


22 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


place for it was at the bow of the commodore’s canoe, 
so it was yielded to Ned. 

With the exception of Randy’s single barreled shot- 
gun, no firearms were to be taken along. The boys 
demurred to this at first, but were finally won over 
by Ned’s sensible arguments. Canoeists cruising 
through a peaceful country seldom need weapons of 
defense. 


CHAPTER III 


THE CRUISE BEGINS 

The first day of July fell on Thursday, and that 
afternoon the boxes containing the dishes, provisions 
and other traps, and the four canoes carefully wrapped 
in coffee sacking, were shipped to Oakville by freight. 

On the following morning the Jolly Rovers de- 
parted by the seven o’clock train, and a ride of an 
hour and a half through the beautiful Cumberland 
Valley brought them to their destination. The canoes 
were found to be in good condition, and after a brief 
delay the services of a farmer and his team were en- 
gaged. 

The inhabitants of the little village gazed with won- 
der and curiosity on the strange procession as it 
passed along the straggling street. The boxes and 
the gayly painted canoes completely filled the bed of 
the wagon. Nugget was perched on the seat beside 
the farmer, resplendent in his brown uniform. He 
held the pennant in his right hand, and waved it in the 
breeze from time to time. 

The others marched with military precision behind 
the wagon. Randy bore his gun on his shoulder, and 
Ned and Clay carried paddles. All three wore knick- 
23 


24 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


erbockers and Norfolk jackets, and their faces were 
protected from the sun by canvas helmets with large 
visors. 

For two miles and a half the road wound through 
a hilly, open country. Then it dipped into a wooded 
ravine, turned aside to follow a barely perceptable 
path through a heavy forest, and finally ended at a 
fording on the edge of the Conodoguinet. 

“ Here you are, boys,’" cried the farmer, as he 
pulled up his horses within a few feet of the water. 

I reckon you couldn’t have a better day for your 
start. The creek’s in prime condition, too.” 

Nugget leaped down from the wagon and joined 
his companions. For a moment or two the boys quite 
forgot the work that had to be done. 

With exclamations of delight they gazed on the 
narrow blue channel as it poured swiftly around a 
bend in the woods above and vanished from sight 
beneath the crooked arches of a mossy stone bridge 
a quarter of a mile below. The opposite shore was 
rocky and lined with pine trees, and over their tops 
could be seen against the horizon the jagged crest 
line of the Kittatinny Mountains. 

“ Come on now and get to work,” said Ned finally. 
‘‘ My arms are itching to take hold of a paddle.” 

'' So are mine,” exclaimed Randy. ‘‘ Let’s be off 
as soon as possible.” 

With the farmer’s aid the canoes were speedily 
taken from the wagon and placed on the grass close 
to the water’s edge. They were built on somewhat 


THE CRUISE BEGINS 


25 


different lines, but all were serviceable and well 
adapted for speed. The framework and the canvas 
were both light, and the average weight was about 
eighty pounds, unloaded. The canoes were aptly 
named. The Water Sprite belonged to Randy. It 
was light and graceful, and owing to its flat bottom 
drew very little water. 

Clay owned the Neptune, a broad decked craft, 
built somewhat on the order of the primitive Rob Roy. 
The Imp was narrow and rakish, with a low cockpit 
and a high bow and stern. Nugget regarded it with 
the affection that one feels for a favorite dog. 

The Pioneer, in which Ned had cruised down the 
Susquehanna, was a heavy but neatly proportioned 
craft, and showed traces of wear and tear. They all 
contained spacious hatches fore and aft. 

The boxes were unpacked, and under Ned’s super- 
vision the contents were judiciously distributed and 
stowed away in the different canoes. Then the seats 
and back rests were arranged in the cockpits, and the 
canoes were gently shoved into the water. 

Do you fellows expect to reach the river in them 
flimsy things ? ” exclaimed the farmer when he saw 
the four canoes swinging lightly with the current. 
‘‘ I reckon you’ll repent it afore you get many miles 
from here.” 

“ Not much danger,” replied Ned laughingly. “ A 
good canvas canoe will stand as much as a rowboat 
any time. There are no obstructions in the way, are 
there ? ’’ 


26 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


I dunno/’ replied the farmer. “ It’s a wild and 
lonsesome bit of country that this creek runs through, 
and Fve heard tell of bad water an’ whirlpools. The 
channel winds worse than any serpent. Why, it must 
be all of two hundred miles to the Big River.” 

“ I hope you are right there,” said Ned heartily, as 
he climbed out on his canoe and fixed the pennant se- 
curely on the bow. “ Take your seats now,” he added 
to the boys. “ Everything’s ready for the start.” 

They obeyed with a rush and a scramble, and Nug- 
get very nearly got a ducking at the outset by thought- 
lessly trying to stand up in the cockpit. 

Good wishes and farewells were exchanged with 
the friendly farmer. Then four double paddles 
dipped the water and rose flashing with silvery drops, 
four canoes skimmed gracefully out on the swift 
blue surface of the creek. The Jolly Rovers were off 
at last. 

When they were twenty or thirty yards down stream 
they turned and waved their paddles to the farmer, 
who was still standing in open-mouthed wonder be- 
side the empty packing cases. Then a cross current, 
setting toward the right shore, whisked them out of 
sight of the spot. 

Randy struck up the chorus of a popular boating 
song, and the others joined in with eager voices. 
Their jubilant spirits had to find a vent somewhere. 

What a glorious thing it was to be drifting hap- 
hazard with the rippling current, free as the very air, 
and the birds that were singing sweetly in the bushes ! 


THE CRUISE BEGINS 


27 


The narrow vista of the creek brought vividly to mind 
the pleasures that lay in wait along the twisted miles 
of its channel — the gamy bass lurking in the deep, 
shady holes, the snipe and woodcock feeding among 
the reeds, the tent and campfire with the savory odor 
of coffee and crisp bacon. 

That less pleasant things than these were destined 
to fall to the lot of the Jolly Rovers ere they should 
paddle from the mouth of the creek into the broad 
Susquehanna, occurred to none, else a shadow had 
marred their bright anticipations at the start. 

Side by side the four canoes darted under the 
middle arch of the old stone bridge, and then Ned 
took the lead, for it was not seemly that the pennant 
should be anywhere but in front while the club was on 
a cruise. 

The current soon became sluggish, and the channel 
wound between thick woods, where the trees almost 
met overhead. The boys drifted along leisurely, 
stopping now and then to explore some tempting 
nook. 

At one place, where the water was deep and a 
great rock jutted from the shore, they put their fish- 
ing rods together, and procured worms by pulling up 
great clods of grass. In half an hour they caught 
a beautiful string of sun-fish and chubs. 

About the middle of the afternoon Ned went up to 
a farmhouse that was visible among the hills and 
came back with a pail of butter, a loaf of bread and 
two apple pies. The boys had already lunched on 


28 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


crackers. So they concluded to keep these supplies 
for supper. 

They paddled slowly on, crossing from shore to 
shore as something new took their attention. A sud- 
den shadow, caused by the sun dipping beneath the 
hill top, reminded them that evening was at hand. 
The banks were closely scanned for a camping place, 
and an admirable one was soon found — a grove of 
big trees, through which filtered a tiny stream. 

The boys landed and dragged the canoes partly out 
on the grassy slope. 

“ The tent is the first thing,” said Ned, as he lifted 
the big roll of canvas from the cockpit of the Pio- 
neer, where it had served as an admirable seat. 

Randy unlashed the poles from the fore deck of 
his canoe, and joined them together. 

This was a clever invention of Ned’s. Each pole 
was in two parts, and could be put together like the 
joints of a fishing rod. The ferrule of the ridge pole, 
which had to endure the most pressure, was longer 
and stouter than the others. The poles were very 
light but strong, and the entire six pieces made no 
perceptible burden when lashed on a canoe. 

Five minutes sufficed to raise the tent, and drive 
the iron stakes at the four corners. Then what arti- 
cles would likely be needed were taken from the ca- 
noes and carried inside. 

Ned hunted up two large stones, and placed them 
a foot apart. He laid four iron rods across them, and 
proceeded to build a fire underneath. 


THE CRUISE BEGINS 


29 


That’s the best cooking arrangement ever in- 
vented,” he said. “We used it altogether on the 
Susquehanna last summer. If I prepare the supper 
you fellows must do the rest. Clay, you clean those 
fish. Bring me the salt, pepper and lard, Randy, and 
then peel some potatoes.” 

“Can I assist in any way?” drawled Nugget, as 
he emerged from behind the tent, where he had been 
slyly brushing off his clothes and shoes. 

“ Why, certainly,” replied Clay. “ Clean these fish 
for me, that’s a good fellow.” 

Nugget rapidly opened and closed his mouth two 
or three times. “I — I — really — I’m afraid — ” he 
stammered. 

“ Let him alone, Clay,” cried Ned sharply. “ Clean 
the fish yourself. Suppose you set the table. Nug- 
get,” he added kindly. “ Arrange the plates and 
knives and forks on some grassy level place, I mean.” 

While his companions were performing the duties 
assigned to them, Ned went down to the stream and 
filled the coffee pot. 

“ This is spring water, as cold as ice,” he exclaimed 
in surprise. “ The source can’t be far away.” 

The sun was now out of sight, and it grew darker 
and darker as the preparations for supper went on. 
Randy finished his own work, and helped Nugget 
arrange the dishes on an outspread square strip of 
canvas. He lit one of the lanterns and placed it in 
the center, and a few moments later Ned made the 
welcome announcement that supper was ready. 


30 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


The coffee pot and the pans of fried fish and pota- 
toes were gingerly carried over, and then the boys 
seated themselves at the four corners, crossing their 
legs under them, tailor fashion. 

The ruddy flames mingled with the yellow glow of 
the lantern, dancing on the bright tinware, and cast- 
ing the shadow of the tent far into the forest. The 
brook rippled softly through the ravine, and away up 
the creek the melancholy cry of a whippoorwill was 
heard. 

“ This is what I call glorious,” said Ned, as he 
opened a can of condensed milk and passed it around. 
“ Nothing equals a life in the open air, and no other 
sport has the same fascination.” 

“ You’re right there,” stuttered Randy with his 
mouth full, “ I’d like to live this way half the year 
round.” 

“ It beats New York,” said Nugget decidedly, as he 
raised a pint cup of coffee to his lips. The next in- 
stant he uttered a howl of anguish, and made a frantic 
grab at the pail of cold water. 

Was it hot?” asked Clay. 

‘‘ Try it and see,” retorted Nugget indignantly as 
he buried his nose in the pail. 

For a little while the silence was broken only by the 
clatter of knives and forks. Then Ned said slowly, 
“ It does a fellow lots of good to get away from the 
rush and noise of town life. We are safer here to- 
night that we would be at home. No peril can come 
near us. Our only neighbors are the simple, kind 


THE CRUISE BEGINS 


31 


hearted farmers — ” he paused abruptly, and turned 
his head to one side. 

A strange rustling noise was heard back in the for- 
est. It grew more distinct with every second, and the 
boys looked at each other with fear and wonder. 
Then a gruif angry bark rang out on the night air, 
and the elder bushes across the glade swayed violently. 


CHAPTER IV 


ADRIFT IN THE DARKNESS 

Before the frightened boys could realize what was 
coming, a big yellow dog shot into view and rushed 
at them with a ferocious snarl. Under other circum- 
stances the Jolly Rovers would have courageously 
faced the foe, but the attack was so sudden as to pre- 
clude the possibility of defense. 

The supper party broke up in ignominious confu- 
sion. Ned bolted' for the nearest tree and went up 
the trunk like a cat. Randy fled down the slope to 
the creek, and Clay sought shelter in the bushes on 
the far side of the rivulet. Nugget stared hopelessly 
about for an instant, and then, with a shrill cry of 
fear, he dived through the flaps of the tent. 

The dog rushed across the table, tramping the 
dishes, and unfortunately upsetting the coifee pot. 
The hot liquid scalded the brute’s paws, and snarling 
with rage and pain, he bolted into the tent after Nug- 
get. 

For a second or two there was a terrible outcry. 
Nugget’s appeals for help mingled with the dog’s 
angry barking. Then the tent shook violently and 
toppled to the ground. 


32 


ADRIFT IN THE DARKNESS 


33 


At this interesting juncture the owner of the dog 
emerged from the bushes — a burly farmer with a 
very stern cast of features. He carried a lantern in 
one hand, and a short, thick club in the other. 

The fallen tent first attracted his attention. It was 
wriggling about as though endowed with life, and 
from underneath came strange, muffled sounds. 

The farmer lifted one end of the canvas, and gave 
it a vigorous jerk, thus liberating the dog, who began 
to prance about his master. A second pull revealed 
Nugget’s legs thrashing wildly about on the grass. » 
The dog immediately made a dart at them, but the 
farmer caught him by the scruff of the neck and 
dragged him back. 

The boys had witnessed the whole affair from their 
hiding places, and now they dropped from the tree, 
and came timidly forward. At the same moment 
Randy crept out of the shadows and joined them. 

The farmer caught sight of the boys and took a step 
toward them, still keeping a tight hold on his dog. 

What do you mean by trespassin’ here, you impu- 
dent young rascals ? ” he demanded savag’ely. “ Get 
out of this as quick as you can, or I’ll give you a 
taste of this.” 

He shook his club menacingly. 

“ I’m very sorry if we have offended you,” said 
Ned quietly. We did not suppose there would be 
any objection to our camping here. I don’t think we 
have done any damage.” 

Damage ! ” growled the farmer. “No, I reckon 


34 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


not. You hain’t had time for that yet. It was only 
last night I run two thieving rascals off my land. 
They hed a camp a little ways down the creek, an’ 
fur two whole days they were livin’ at my expense, 
stealing applies, an’ eggs, an’ chickens, an’ whatever 
else they could lay their hands on. You people are 
all alike. You don’t have no regards fur a farmer’s 
rights.” 

“ I’m very sorry you have such a bad opinion of 
us,” said Ned. “ I assure you we don’t deserve it. 
If you will let us stay here to-night we will go quietly 
away in the morning.” 

“ No,” snarled the farmer. You can’t stay. I 
won’t have it. Pack up at once and git out. And 
mine vou don’t stop anywhere within half a mile. I 
own the land that fur on both sides of the creek.” 

Just then a diversion was created by the dog. He 
tore loose from his master and rushed at Nugget, who 
had meanwhile crawled out from the fallen canvas, 
and was standing with open mouth and eyes, listen- 
ing eagerly to the conversation. 

Here, Bowser,” shouted the farmer sternly. 
“ Come here, I say.” 

The brute reluctantly obeyed, while Nugget sought 
shelter in a young tree. 

The angry man turned to the three boys — for Clay 
had by this time joined the others. 

“ Get out as quick as you can,” he resumed. I 
can’t stand here all night.” > 

For an instant no one replied. Ned was bent on 


ADRIFT IN THE DARKNESS 


35 


making another appeal, and was thinking how he 
could best word it. The chances were that a little 
persuasion would have induced the farmer to relent, 
and permit the boys to remain where they were until 
morning. 

But Randy’s unfortunate temper blazed up just 
then, and made a breach that was too wide to be 
healed. 

“ It’s a confounded shame to turn us off at this time 
of night,” he muttered angrily. “ I wouldn’t treat 
a dog that way. If this is a sample of country breed- 
ing I’m glad I don’t — ” 

“ Keep quiet, Randy,” whispered Ned; “ you’re only 
making things worse.” 

The warning came too late. . ^ 

“ You audacious sauce box,” cried the fauner. 

I’ll learn you manners. Take that — and that.” 

He seized Randy by the collar, and cuffed him 
soundly on the ears three or four times. Then he 
dropped him and turned to the others. Now git out 
o’ here, or I’ll treat you-uns the same way,” he 
snarled. 

Randy was boiling with rage, but he dared not open 
his mouth again. Ned and Clay realized that further 
entreaty was now useless. Without a word they 
began to pack up, and were finally assisted by Randy 
and Nugget. 

The farmer stood at one side, watching the opera- 
tion keenly. In a brief space of time the tent and the 
unwashed dishes were tumbled into the hatches. Then 


36 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

the boys pushed the canoes into the water, and took 
their seats. 

The farmer came down to the shore to see them off. 

Mind what I told you,’’ he said ; “ no stoppin’ 
within a good half mile.” 

“ Don’t say a word,” whispered Ned. 

His companions wisely obeyed, and in utter silence 
they paddled out from the shore and headed down 
stream. Soon a curve in the channel hid from view 
the dying embers of the campfire and the twinkle of 
the farmer’s lantern. 

“ Wouldn’t I like to get square with that old cur- 
mudgeon ! ” exclaimed Randy ; ‘‘ my ears sting yet. 
For half a cent I’d go back and trample down his 
grain or break his fences.” 

“ I wish you’d poison the dog,” drawled Nugget. 
“ The brute gave me a horrid fright. The falling of 
the tent was all that saved me from being chewed up.” 

“ See here, Randy,” said Ned in a grave tone. “ If 
you had kept your temper down and your mouth shut, 
things would have turned out all right. A little rea- 
soning would have pacified that farmer. I thought 
you had more sense. You heard what the man said, 
didn’t you ? 

Two men — tramps or fishermen, probably — had 
been camping on his land, and doing all the damage 
they could, and naturally enough he was inclined to 
take out his spite on us. I don’t blame him much. 
Such a thing would rile any farmer. Most people 
have an idea that when they get in the country they 


ADRIFT IN THE DARKNESS 


37 


can do as they please, and for what these ignorant 
fools do the innocent ones have to suffer. We are 
finding that out ourselves just now.” 

“ But the old brute might have seen that we didn’t 
belong to that class of people,” growled Randy, “ and 
besides he didn’t pay any attention to what you 
said.” 

“ I had no chance to explain who we were,” replied 
Ned. You spoiled that for me by your impudence. 
I have no doubt the man was fair enough at heart. 
If we get in any more scrapes of that kind you must 
keep your temper down. I’m speaking for your own 
good, Randy. This isn’t the first time your tongue 
has got you into trouble.” 

“ It would be a good idea to keep his mouth tied 
shut except at meal times,” suggested Clay laughingly. 

“ If you say that again I’ll hit you with my paddle,” 
threatened Randy. “ I won’t stand any nonsense from 
you, Clay Halsey.” 

‘‘ No quarreling, boys,” said Ned. '' That’s enough 
now. We’ll let the matter drop.” 

Clay subsided, and so did Randy. The latter stood 
a little in awe of Ned’s rebukes, and whether he felt 
the justice of this one or not, he wisely made no more 
allusions to the farmer. 

Indeed there were other things to think about now. 
The night was dark and gloomy, and it was difficult to 
perceive the outlines of the shores. The boys were 
tired and sleepy, but they feared to stop and hunt up 
a camping ground, lest the farmer should come down 


38 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


and rout them out again. A light would betray them, 
but without it they could do nothing. 

There seemed to be no current at all, and in the 
dead sluggish water half a mile meant a wearisome 
paddle. 

I'm awfully hungry," said Nugget in a plaintive 
tone. ** I didn’t have ten bites of supper." 

“ We’re all hungry, for that matter," returned Ned, 
“ and sleepy as well. We must find a camping place." 

You had better hurry then," observed Clay. ‘‘ I 
believe it’s going to rain. The air feels sultry, and 
there isn’t a star in sight." 

Almost as he spoke a sullen peal of thunder echoed 
among the hills, and an instant later a jagged flash of 
lightning blazed on the surface of the creek. 

The boys huddled a little closer together and nerv- 
ously discussed the situation. A storm was bad 
enough when they had a snug tent to shelter them, 
but in their present plight, adrift on the water in 
pitch darkness, there was no telling what disaster 
might happen. 

I wish I was home," said Nugget. I’m awfully 
afraid of thunder and lightning.’’ 

No one laughed at this candid confession. The oc- 
casion was too serious for mirth. 

“ I hardly know what would be best to do," began 
Ned. “ If there is going to be much lightning we 
will be safer on the water than among the trees on 
shore. But here xomes a gale, if I’m not mistaken. 
That will make things lively for us." 


ADRIFT IN THE DARKNESS 

Ned’s prediction was correct. The trees on shore 
suddenly began to rustle and creak. The water was 
lashed into short, choppy waves, which turned to white 
capped billows as the wind waxed stronger. It was 
evident that this part of the creek occupied an exposed 
position. 

‘‘ Keep your canoes trim,” shouted Ned. The 
wind will drop as soon as the rain comes.” 

It is doubtful if his companions heard the warning. 
The force of the tempest had already driven the canoes 
apart. 

For two or three minutes Ned was tossed about at 
will, momentarily expecting his frail craft to upset. 
He could see no trace of his companions in the dark- 
ness, and when he shouted the roar of the gale almost 
drowned his voice. 

Suddenly he felt a severe shock, and then the canoe 
stood still. As he partially rose, and peered to right 
and left, a dim object glided swiftly by him. A sec- 
ond later it disappeared with startling abruptness, and 
a frantic cry for help rang out hoarsely above the 
fury of the storm. 


CHAPTER V 


DISAPPEARANCE OF NUGGET 

Ned knew that the dim object must have been a 
canoe, but its sudden effacement, and the loud cry for 
help, were mysteries too deep for immediate compre- 
hension. He shouted with all the power of his voice 
full half a dozen times, but no answer came back. 

Then a happy thought flashed into his mind. When 
he had satisfied himself by shaking it violently that 
the canoe was firmly lodged on some object — prob- 
ably a rock — he leaned forward and took his lantern 
from the hatch. By holding it low in the cockpit he 
had no difficulty in lighting the wick. 

The lantern was a bullseye, and as soon as Ned 
turned the flashing glare on the surrounding darkness 
the mystery was solved. The Pioneer was lodged in 
mid channel on a timber dam. The bow projected a 
foot or two over the edge, but could go no further 
owing to lack of water. None was running over at all 
at this point, and the slimy timbers protruded six 
or eight inches above the level of the creek. 

While Ned was making these investigations the 
wind ceased, and he heard close at hand a steady roar- 
ing noise, like the furious patter of rain on a tin roof. 

40 


DISAPPEARANCE OF NUGGET 41: 

But it was not rain that produced the noise, though 
big drops were even then beginning to fall. 

A twist of the lantern to the left sent a luminous 
bar of light along the breast of the dam, and revealed 
a jagged break, fully six feet wide, through which 
the freed water poured with the speed of a millrace. 
The chasm was barely a dozen feet from where the 
Pioneer had lodged, and Ned's first thought was one 
of gratitude for his own escape. Then he remembered 
with a thrill of horror what had happened a moment 
or two before. Which of his companions had been 
carried through the breaks and where was the un- 
fortunate lad now? 

As Ned stood with the lantern turned on the fatal 
spot, a shout rang out behind him, and the next in- 
stant the Water Sprite grounded on the edge of the 
dam beside the Pioneer. 

“ Pm glad you lit that lantern, Ned,” exclaimed 
Randy breathlessly. ‘‘ I came pretty near paddling 
back up the creek. But where are the other fellows ? ” 

Ned pointed to the broken dam and huskily related 
what had occurred. 

Randy was horror stricken. 

‘‘ I heard that cry for help, too,” he said, “ but I 
had no idea what it meant. Are you sure one of the 
boys went through ? ” 

“ I saw the canoe plainly,” replied Ned. “ There 
was just one cry for help, and after that I could get 
no answer when I shouted.” 

“ We’ll hope for the best,” said Randy stoutly. 


42 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


Perhaps he made the plunge all right, and is half a 
mile down the creek by this time. Great Caesar ! I 
hope both the boys didn’t go through. No, there’s a 
light now on the left shore. It’s either Nugget or 
Clay with a lantern.” 

Paddle over and bring him back with you,” di- 
rected Ned. “ If he tries to come himself he’ll go 
through the break. Be sure to keep away above the 
dam though, and when you return don’t let my lan- 
tern mislead you, because I intend to wade along the 
breastwork and have a look at that hole. If you head 
for a dozen feet this side of the light you’ll likely land 
where you are now.” 

Randy promised obedience, and departed in haste. 
Ned watched him anxiously until he was out of sight. 
Then he sounded the water with his paddle, and 
finding it quite shallow he climbed carefully out of the 
canoe. 

Holding the lantern in one hand, and clutching the 
projecting edge of the dam with the other, he moved 
along foot by foot, submerged to his waist. It was 
well that he had this support, for his feet were on the 
sloping, mud incrusted planks. 

When the broken place was three or four feet away 
the water began to deepen. Ned stopped and flashed 
the light on the lower side of the dam. He saw little 
there to comfort him. 

The fall was about six feet, and at the bottom of the 
long, glassy sheet of water which plunged through the 
break at a frightful speed, great foam crested waves 


DISAPPEARANCE OF NUGGET 


43 


began, and rolled and tumbled in awful confusion as 
far as the gleam of the bullseye could reach. That a 
canoe could go through such a place without capsiz- 
ing seemed an utter impossibility. 

There was no sign of one, however, in the quiet 
eddies on either side of the raging channel, and with 
this dismal scrap of comfort Ned retraced his peril- 
ous journey to the canoe. He had hardly gained it, 
and climbed in, when Randy and his companion pad- 
died their craft alongside. That companion was Clay. 
Nugget, then, was the missing Jolly Rover. 

“Discover anything?” demanded Randy. 

“ No. It looks bad for poor Nugget, boys. If 
the canoe had gone through all right he would have 
paddled to shore, and been making a big outcry by 
this time.” 

“ He can’t be drowned. I won’t believe it,” cried 
Randy. “ See here, Ned, isn’t it likely that Nugget 
caught hold of the canoe when it upset, and clung to 
it? The roar of the water would account for your 
not hearing his cries.” 

“ It may be,” said Ned reflectively, as he dashed a 
tear from his eye. “If that’s the case we will soon 
overtake him — provided he doesn’t let go his hold. 
Let’s have a look at the right hand corner of the dam.” 

“ Yes, that will be the most likely place,” added 
Clay. “ The race is on the other side. I nearly 
blundered into it.” 

The boys paddled ta shore, following the line of 
the dam, and a brief search with the lantern revealed 


44 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


an easy path by which the canoes could be carried 
around. 

There was no sign of a house, and Clay reported 
none on the opposite side, so the mill was probably 
some distance below. 

Under the excitement of the moment the boys 
scarcely felt the weight of the heavily laden canoes. 
They carried them, one at a time, up a sloping bank, 
and then down through the bushes to the water. 

When they embarked, and paddled out through the 
quiet shallows to the swift channel in midstream, the 
wind had nearly subsided and the rain was falling in 
a desultory fashion which promised only a brief con- 
tinuance. In fact stars were visible here and there 
through rifts in the black clouds. The storm seemed 
to have gone off in another direction. 

A short distance below the dam the water became 
very sluggish, and the boys knew that if Nugget was 
ahead of them they must speedily overtake him. So 
they paddled hard, forgetful of weariness and hun- 
ger, and at frequent intervals shouted loudly and 
called their companion by name. 

The lanterns were exposed to view so that Nugget 
could not fail to see the light if he was anywhere 
near. 

For half an hour the three heartsick lads paddled 
on steadily, and in that time hardly a word was ex- 
changed. They were in no mood for conversation. 

Finally the track of yellow light which shone ahead 
from Ned’s bullseye revealed a bit of an island in 


DISAPPEARANCE OF NUGGET 


45 


midchannel — a strip of gravel and reeds, with a few 
stunted bushes growing in the center. 

Ned drove the Pioneer on the upper point and 
stepped out. His companions did the same, and 
Randy asked wearily : “ What are you going to do 
here ? 

“ Wait for daylight,” said Ned. “ It’s the only thing 
we can do. We are a good mile and a half below the 
dam, and if the canoe was drifting in that sluggish 
water, we passed it long ago. It has probably lodged 
on -some bar, or along the shore, and will be found 
in the morning.” 

“Then you think that Nugget is — is drowned?” 
asked Clay huskily. 

Ned stooped and pulled the canoe up on the bar. 

“ I don’t know,” he said in a broken voice. “ If 
Nugget was alive he would surely have heard our 
shouts or seen the lights. We won’t know anything 
positively until morning. It could do no good to 
paddle up the creek again in the darkness, so we had 
better wait here as patiently as we can.” 

No objection was made to this plan, and the boys 
crawled in among the bushes and sat down with Clay’s 
lantern between them. The passing storm had not 
cooled the sultry atmosphere, and no fire or blankets 
were needed. 

All seemed stupefied by the terrible misfortune that 
had happened, though as yet they hardly realized its 
full significance. They purposely refrained from talk- 
ing about it, though each knew in his own heart how 


46 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


wildly improbable was the hope that Nugget was still 
alive. 

The hours of that dark, dismal night wore slowly on. 
There was plenty to eat in the canoes, but no one was 
hungry now. A lantern was kept burning at the up- 
per point of the island, and from time to time one of 
the. boys went down to the shore and shouted till the 
echo rang far among the hills. They must have 
known that it was but a hollow mockery, and yet there 
was a scrap of consolation even in pretending that hope 
was not entirely gone. 

Ned insisted that his companions should lie down 
and sleep. This seemed impossible at first, but after 
a while drowsiness and fatigue asserted their sway. 
Randy went down to the canoes and returned with 
three blankets. He and Clay wrapped themselves up, 
and chose a soft spot among the bushes. In five 
minutes they were sleeping soundly. 

Ned remained where he was for a long while, keep- 
ing solitary vigil over his companions. Then he be- 
gan to pace up and down the island, and. finally he 
pulled the blanket about his shoulders and sat down 
on the upper end of the bar with his back against the 
side of the canoe. 

It was his intention to remain awake, but uncon- 
sciously his eyelids drooped, and after a feeble strug- 
gle or two he sank into a deep slumber. 

He knew nothing more until he woke in the gray 
dawn of the morning. For a few seconds his sur- 
roundings seemed familiar. Then the bitter truth 


DISAPPEARANCE OF NUGGET 


47 


flashed into his mind, and he rose with an aching 
heart. He was stiff and shivering, and the cool breeze 
that blew down the creek, scattering the light, vapory 
mists over the surface of the water, made him keenly 
conscious of the pangs of hunger. 

He went up in the bushes and wakened Clay and 
Randy. They followed him stiffly down to the shore, 
and after dipping their feet in the cool, rippling water, 
all sat down on the grass and ate a few crackers. Ned 
offered to build a fire and make some hot coffee, but 
the others protested that they did not care for it. 

The sun was just peeping above the horizon when 
the boys pushed their canoes into the water and em- 
barked on the dreaded journey up the creek. Roth 
shores were thickly timbered, and to make the search 
more thorough Ned kept close to the right bank, while 
Clay and Randy followed the left. 

They paddled with leisurely strokes, maintaining a 
sharp watch on every patch of reeds and every little 
inlet. In the first mile there was nothing to reward 
the searchers — not the slightest trace of the missing 
canoe or its occupant. 

Then the channel made a sharp curve, and when 
they paddled around it they saw, nearly half a mile 
above, a gray, weather worn mill, standing in a grove 
of willows on the right hand shore. The dam was 
visible a hundred yards or so beyond, and the sun- 
light was dancing on the foaming torrent that poured 
through the break. 


CHAPTER VI 


' THE LOST FOUND 

Without lessening their vigilance the boys paddled 
on against the increasing current. When the mill was 
very near Ned signaled the others to join him. 

They quickly crossed to the right shore, and the 
three canoes were run into a quiet little nook close 
to the swirling mouth of the race. The mill was 
twenty yards above, and a little to the right of it a 
cozy frame house, overgrown with trailing vines, 
peeped above the willow trees. 

“ I thought we had better stop here on account of 
the swift water,” said Ned. “ We will go up to the 
dam on foot, and take a look at the deep holes under 
the breastwork.” 

Before Clay or Randy could reply a man came 
briskly through the trees — the miller beyond a doubt, 
for his clothes and hat were white with flour. He 
greeted the boys with a smile and a cherry nod. 

‘T guess you’re the chaps I was just starting out to 
find,” he said. '' T’other young chap was getting anx- 
ious about you, and not much wonder. He feared 
you were all drowned, and I guess you thought the 
48 


THE LOST FOUND 


49 


same about him. It was lucky I run across him this 
morning. You see I went down to the creek at day- 
break to look for a stray cow, and when — ” 

“Did you find a boy called Nugget?’' interrupted 
Ned in great excitement. 

“ And a green and white canoe called the Imp ? ” 
shouted Randy, as he tossed his cap into the air. 

“ That’s about the way of it” responded the miller. 
“ But come up to the house and see for yourselves. 
You look as if you were nearly starved.” 

The boys needed no second invitation. With eager 
steps and light hearts they followed their guide 
through the trees, and across the little garden to the 
rear of the house. 

The miller threw open the door, and they rushed 
in with cries of delight. There sat Nugget at the 
kitchen table, making a fierce onslaught on ham and 
fried potatoes. He was rigged out in a suit of 
clothes three times too big for him, and his brown 
uniform was drying before the fire. 

The boys were so glad to see him that they first 
laughed and then cried almost, while the miller and 
his wife looked on in wonder. 

Nugget took things very coolly. 

“ Where did you fellows spend the night ? ” he 
asked, after the first greetings were over. 

“Where did you spend it?” exclaimed Ned. 
“ You gave us a pretty scare. Nugget. We never 
expected to see you again.” 

“ Let him spin his yarn while you’re eating break- 


50 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


fast,” interrupted the miller. “ Lizzie, set three more 
plates out.” 

A moment later the boys were attacking Hhe food 
with keen appetites, and as Nugget was now through, 
he proceeded to relate his adventures. 

“When the wind came up and separated us,” he 
began, “ I got pretty badly scared. I was afraid it 
would rain hard, so I took out my canvass apron 
and buttoned it over the cockpit, close up to my 
waist.” 

“ Good for you ! ” said Ned. “ If Fm not mistaken 
that was what saved you.” 

“Perhaps it was,” resumed Nugget. “ I paddled 
on for a little while, trying to find you fellows. All 
at once I heard an awful roar, and the canoe made 
a jump as though it was going to stand on end. I 
gave one yell, and the next thing I knew big waves 
were jumping all around me.” 

He paused to shiver at the recollection. 

“ And what then ? ” asked Randy breathlessly. 

“Then L was more scared than ever,” continued 
Nugget in a reluctant voice. “ So I crawled under 
the apron and snuggled up in the cockpit. There was 
plenty of room, and the cushion made a nice soft pil- 
low, and — and — I fell asleep.” 

“ Fell asleep ! ” ejaculated Ned in amazement. 
“You don’t mean it?” 

“ Why, yes,” said Nugget. “ I was awfully tired, 
you know, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The 
next thing I remember is that man there helping me 


THE LOST FOUND 


51 


out. It was daylight, and the canoe was in a little 
channel with thick bushes all around.” 

The boys were not slow to appreciate the ludicrous 
side of Nugget’s adventure, and they laughed long 
and heartily. 

Then the miller told how he found the canoe in a 
stretch of back water that ran a few yards in from 
the creek, and how surprised he was when he pulled 
the apron off the cockpit and saw Nugget fast 
asleep. 

“ I noticed that inlet,” said Ned, “ but I didn’t see 
anything of the canoe.” 

“ Because I pulled it out in the bushes,” replied 
the miller. The current has a natural drift toward 
the place, and clogs it up with rubbish sometimes. 
The lad had a narrow squeeze of it when he went 
through that hole in the dam. I intend to fix it as 
soon as the water goes down a little.” 

I don’t want to go through any more such places,” 
said Nugget. I suppose that apron was what kept 
the water out. I shipped a little bit, though I didn’t 
know it until this morning, when I found my clothes 
all wet. My extra suit is in your canoe, Randy. I 
had dry shirts, though. Say, wouldn’t I look nice 
marching down Fifth Avenue in this rig?” 

The boys laughed at the idea, and then drew their 
chairs away from the table, and chatted for half an 
hour with the miller, relating all that had happened 
on the previous night, and telling him of their pro- 
posed trip to the Susquehanna. He, in turn, gave 


52 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


them much interesting information about the creek, 
where to camp and where to fish. 

Ten o’clock came before any one realized it, and the 
boys prepared to depart, in spite of their host’s earnest 
invitation to stay for a day or two. Nugget changed 
his clothes, and started for the inlet with the miller, 
while the others embarked in their canoes, after thank- 
ing the miller’s wife for her hospitality. 

The inlet was half a mile down the creek. The boys 
reached there first, and were joined by the others two 
or three minutes later. 

Fortunately Nugget’s paddle was not lost. He had 
found it stranded along the shore while on his way to 
the mill that morning. 

The boys lingered a moment to shake hands with 
their kind hearted friend, and thank him for his ser- 
vices. 

“ That’s all right,” said the miller, only too glad 
to oblige you. Be sure and stop when you pass here 
again. My name is John Kling.” 

“ We’ll spend a week with you next time,” returned 
Ned, as he grasped his paddle. 

‘‘ Please have the dam mended before then,” drawled 
Nugget. 

The miller laughed and waved his hand, and amid a 
chorus of “ good-byes ” the Jolly Rovers paddled away 
from shore. The shadow of misfortune was forgot- 
ten, and the future was full of bright anticipations, 
as before. 

The birds sang among the leaves, the fish leaped 


THE LOST FOUND 


S3 


in the ripples, and the sunlight danced on the blue 
water. 

The little island, where the boys had spent such a 
wretched night, was soon far behind, and they entered 
upon a more beautiful stretch of country than they 
had yet seen. The water was very sluggish, and on 
each side were great hills densely covered with pine 
and spruce trees. 

The temptations to stop were so frequent that by 
mid-afternoon the boys were scarcely five miles from 
the mill — that is to say by water. It was probably 
less than half that distance in a straight line. 

“ Fm really hungry again in spite of that big break- 
fast,” said Clay. “ Can’t we stop and have lunch ? ” 

“ I second that,” cried Randy. 

The others were of the same mind, and as a very 
pretty spot happened to come within view about that 
time, they paddled across to it and landed. 

Closer inspection only added to the charms of the 
place. 

It lay on the right shore, at the mouth of a deep, 
dark ravine. A beach of smooth pebbles sloped back 
to a grassy bank three or four feet high, and oa 
the plateau above were a dozen or more massive 
girthed pine trees, whose fragrant needles carpeted 
the ground: A fair sized brook gurgled through the 
center over a bed of mossy stones, and emptied into 
the creek. 

“ We might travel a good many miles and not find 
such a place as this,” said Ned. “ Suppose we stay 


54 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


here for a day or two. To-morrow is Sunday and 
we would have to stop then anyhow.’' 

This suggestion was adopted without a dissenting 
word and the boys became enthusiastic over the pros- 
pect. Randy wanted to begin fishing at once, while 
Nugget proposed an exploration of the ravine. A few 
sensible words from Ned cooled their ardor, and they 
started in with a will to arrange the camp: 

The tent was staked in a carefully selected spot, 
and then the canoes were unloaded and placed on the 
beach in a row, bottom up, so what little water was in 
them might drain out. 

While Nugget and Clay carried the provisions and 
other articles up to the tent, Ned and Randy washed 
the dirty dishes of the night before. Then the 
blankets were put to air on a stout line stretched be- 
tween two trees, and a great heap of firewood was 
collected. 

'' That’s all for the present,” said Ned, as he finished 
tying the pennant to the front tent pole. ‘‘ You can 
do a little fishing now if you want to. Don’t ven- 
ture far away from the camp, because I’m going up 
the ravine to look for a farmhouse.” 

Randy declared that he was tired and would rather 
stay by the tent, so Nugget and Clay prepared their 
rods and went down the creek a short distance to a 
jutting point of rock. With a diminutive hook they’ 
caught a couple of minnows, w^hich they used for bait. 

For a long time their patience was unrewarded, but 
finally Nugget had a strike, and after a severe strug- 


THE LOST FOUND 


55 


gle he landed a fine bass that could not have weighed 
less than a pound. Clay caught a smaller one, and 
after that the fish stopped biting. 

At sundown they put up their rods and went back 
to camp. Ned had just returned, bringing with him 
a pair of dressed chickens and a pail of milk. 

“ These will make us a good dinner to-morrow,” 
he said. “ I had a hard time finding the farmhouse. 
It was more than a mile away, and the path led 
through the woods for nearly the whole distance. I 
suppose you are pretty hungry by this time. If you 
all pitch in and help we’ll soon have supper.” 

In a short time the fire was blazing merrily. Ned 
was as good as his word, and the menu he set before 
the boys that night was a tempting one. It included 
fried bass, ham and eggs, and baked potatoes, with 
milk and pie for desert. 

As the night was warm all indulged in a delicious 
swim after the supper dishes were cleared up. At 
nine o’clock they turned in and tied the tent flaps shut. 
Even this precaution was felt to be unnecessary, since 
the very loneliness of the place was a protection against 
harm. 

Randy, who occupied the proud position of log 
keeper to the Jolly Rovers, sat up for a while to jot 
down the events of the cruise in a blank book. He 
finally extinguished the lantern with a sigh of satis- 
faction, and was soon sleeping beside his compan- 
ions. 

Sunday dawned bright and clear, but the boys did 


56 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


not get up until nine o'clock. The pine needles made 
a couch that was hard to leave. The day was ob- 
served in a spirit of proper regard. Its monotony 
was somewhat alleviated by the dinner of fried chicken, 
but all were glad when night came. 



HER REVOLVING TAIL LASHED HIM SMARTLY OVER THE FACE 
Canoe Boys and Camp-Fires 




CHAPTER VII 


BATTERS AND JOE 

Ned was up with the sun on Monday morning. He 
pulled the tent flaps wide open, so that the cool air 
would stream in and awaken his companions. Then 
he threw a towel over his shoulder and marched 
down to the mouth of the brook to wash his face and 
hands. 

But this laudable purpose was quite driven from his 
mind by the discovery which greeted his eyes when 
he arrived there. On the spit of jutting sand which 
had formed at the junction of the creek and the brook 
was the deep imprint of a boat’s keel, and close by 
were half a dozen large footsteps. 

They looked quite fresh, and had evidently been 
made by two persons. Some were long and pointed; 
others square toed, and shod with nails or pegs. 

As Ned gazed on these evidences of a nocturnal 
visit, he felt pretty much as did Robinson Crusoe when 
he discovered the print of naked feet on his island. 

It was impossible to tell where these strangers had 
been, since the gravel beach and the grassy soil beyond 
it left no traces. 

Ned washed his face and hands and returned to the 
57 


58 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


tent with a troubled mind. The boys were awake by 
this time, and he told them of his discovery. 

‘‘Hullo! that explains something,” exclaimed Clay. 
“ I got awake last night, and struck a match to find 
the pail of water that was standing outside the tent. 
I thought I heard a noise down by the creek, but I 
was too sleepy to bother about it, and went back to 
bed.” 

“ Then you must have scared these fellows off,” said 
Ned. “ That accounts for nothing being stolen. 
Everything of value was in the tent, however, and I 
don’t suppose they cared to meddle with the canoes.” 

“ Do you think these are the same men that the 
farmer chased off his land ? ” asked Randy. 

“ Very likely,” replied Ned. “ I’m sorry now that 
I didn’t inquire more about them. The best thing we 
can do is to break camp and put about ten miles be- 
tween us and this place.” 

“ That would be cowardly,” exclaimed Randy. 
“ We have no reason to be afraid of these fellows. 
They’ll get a warm reception if they meddle around 
camp again. Let’s stay here for one day anyhow. 
We won’t find many prettier places, and besides, I’m 
anxious to do some hunting and fishing.” 

Clay seemed disposed to side with Randy, while 
Nugget favored both sides of the question. He 
wanted to go, and he was just as anxious to catch 
some more bass down at the point of rocks. 

Ned hesitated for a moment. He knew that it 
would be the more prudent plan to break camp at 


BATTERS AND JOE 


59 


once, but the same time he was not inclined to insist 
upon it, and thus incur the ill will of his compan- 
ions. 

I see that the majority is against me,” he said 
good naturedly. '' But if we get in any kind of a 
scrape you fellows will shoulder the blame, that’s all.” 

The boys appeared to be satisfied with this arrange- 
ment. They trooped off to the brook to wash, while 
Ned turned aside to make the fire. 

After breakfast Randy shouldered his gun and 
started down the creek in search of snipe or wood- 
cock. Clay and Nugget caught a pailful of minnows 
and departed for the point of rocks, for this was the 
time of day when the bass would probably bite best. 

Ned did not accompany them. He had the true 
appreciation of outdoor life, and was never happier 
than when doing odd bits of work around the camp. 
He occupied himself in this way for an hour or two 
— arranging the interior of the tent, hanging the blan- 
kets out to air, stacking the wood neatly by the fire- 
place, and scrubbing the frying pans and the outside 
of the coffee pot with sand and gravel. 

He was scooping out a little fish pond at the mouth 
of the brook when Randy returned. 

“ What luck ? ” he asked, looking up from his work. 

Not a thing,” answered Randy in a disappointed 
tone. The snipe are all on the other side of the 
creek. Tm going after them now in my canoe. I 
tramped along the shore for at least a mile, Ned, and 
I didn’t see a trace of anybody, either on this side or 


6o 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


on the other. Our midnight visitors must have cleared 
out for good.” 

I hope they have,” said Ned. What luck are 
the boys having? ” 

“ Four bass, and one of them is a big fellow. Help 
me up with my canoe now, will you ? ” 

Ned rendered the desired assistance. 

“ Don’t stay too long,” he told Randy. 

I’ll be back inside of an hour,” was the reply, as 
the other paddled swiftly down the creek. 

Ned finished the fish pond to his satisfaction, and 
feeling a little tired, he climbed up the slope and threw 
himself down in a clump of high grass behind the tent. 
He was gazing dreamily up the creek with his head 
resting on his outstretched arms, when a boat contain- 
ing two persons came suddenly into view around the 
bend. 

Ned crept a little deeper into the grass, where he 
could see without being seen. The boat was now out 
of sight behind the trees, but when it reappeared a 
moment later, directly opposite the camp, a single 
glance satisfied Ned that it was not the same craft 
which had landed at the mouth of the brook during 
the previous night. 

This was a rude affair known as a flat.” It was 
long and narrow, with square ends and sides, and 
from its cranky motion evidently had no keel. 

The occupants were young fellows of twenty or 
thereabouts. They were roughly dressed, and their 
general appearance was by no means favorable. They 


BATTERS AND JOE 


6i 


stopped paddling in amazement when they caught 
sight of the camp, and after a brief conversation, which 
Ned did not catch, they ran their craft on shore a few 
yards below the mouth of the brook. 

Ned shifted his position, and watched their move- 
ments curiously. The strangers evidently intended to 
pitch a camp of their own, for they made frequent 
trips up the slope, carrying blankets and tin pails, and 
various other articles. Then they chopped down a 
number of fine shoots, and constructed, in a brief space 
of time, a snug lean-to between two big trees. 

Having placed their things in this — casting sus- 
picious glances all the while at the tent — they went 
back to the boat, climbed in, and paddled swiftly down 
the creek. 

Ned rose to his feet, and looked after them in 
amazement. As the boat vanished around the sharp 
curve that the creek made immediately below the camp, 
he noticed for the first time a bait box trailing on be- 
hind. 

“ I understand it now,’' he muttered. “ Those fel- 
lows are out for a fishing trip, and they’re going down 
to the rocks to set their lines. I hope they won’t get 
into a row with Clay and Nugget.” 

The possibility of such a thing made Ned uneasy. 
He stood in perplexity for a moment or two, and had 
just made up his mind to go down and look after the 
boys, when the sound of loud, angry voices reached 
his hearing. 

He hesitated no longer, but leaped down the slope 


62 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


and ran at full speed along the beach. Bursting 
through a covert of reeds and tall bushes, he emerged 
within a few yards of the rocks. 

On the outermost bowlder, close to the swirling cur- 
rent, were Nugget, Clay, and the two strangers. The 
flat was drawn out on shore. 

As Ned put foot on the nearest rock the taller of the 
strange lads struck Nugget violently on the arm with 
a paddle. Clay immediately hit the cowardly fellow 
in the breast, and in the struggle that followed the 
latter lost his balance and rolled backward into the 
swift current. His companion pounced on Clay, and 
they came down together on the rock, while Nugget 
stood by, holding his injured arm and shouting for 
help. 

Ned took in the situation at a glance. He saw that 
the lad in the water was a poor swimmer, and could 
make no headway against the current. Without stop- 
ping to count the cost he threw oflf his coat, and ran to 
the edge of the bowlder. 

‘‘Bring the boat quick!” he shouted to Clay and 
his assailant, who had fallen apart and were glaring 
wrathfully at each other. 

Then Ned put his arms together and dived head first 
into the foaming water. He came to the surface half 
a dozen yards below, and struck out vigorously for the 
struggling lad, who was by this time on the point of 
exhaustion. 

Ned was an admirable swimmer, and absolutely 
fearless in the water. 


BATTERS AND JOE 63 

‘‘ Keep cool, and don’t struggle,” he shouted, as he 
reached the fellow and put on hand on his collar. 

The other had sense enough to obey, and both 
floated down stream together. 

It was out of the question for Ned to reach the 
shore immediately with his heavy burden, and as Clay 
and the other lad were slow about launching the boat, 
the affair might have ended seriously. But just at 
that time Randy came paddling up the creek in his 
canoe, and spied the drifting figures. 

He was soon alongside, and as the stern of the 
Water Sprite swung toward them, Ned and his com- 
panion each threw an arm over it. 

Then Randy paddled for the shore, and landed 
about sixty feet below the rocks. 

Clay and the other stranger reached the spot in the 
boat just as Ned and the lad he had so nobly rescued, 
waded out on the beach. The latter shook the water 
from his clothes and hesitatingly approached Ned. 

I dunno’ how to thank you for what you did,” he 
said sheepishly. “ I’m mighty sorry I hit that chap. 
Me and Joe were downright mad because you’uns 
were fishing thar in our place. You see we come here 
from the mountains every now and then, and ketch a 
lot of bass, and sell ’em back at Newville. I reckon 
it ain’t our place anyhow, an’ you’uns can fish thar as 
much as you please. My name is Jim Batters — Bat- 
ters they alius calls me — and that’s my brother Joe 
there.” 

I’m glad to know you. Batters,” said Ned, holding 


64 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


out his hand. “You are welcome to your fishing 
ground. We are going away to-morrow anyhow. As 
for the quarrel — we’ll just let that drop. You had 
better go up to camp now and dry your clothes.” 

Batters was not satisfied, however, until he had 
apologized all around, and made Joe do the same. 
Nugget had arrived by this time, and he declared that 
his arm no longer pained him. 

Then the whole party went up the creek, some on 
water and some on land. The two mountaineers were 
tall, lanky youths with expressionless faces, surrounded 
by shocks of yellow hair. 

They wore homespun clothes and high boots. They 
were speedily on intimate terms with Jolly Rovers, 
and gladly accepted Ned’s invitation to dinner. They 
asked many curious questions, and lost themselves in 
admiration over the canoes. 

Ned told them about the nocturnal visitors of the 
previous night, and inquired if they had seen anything 
of the men. Both stoutly replied in the negative, but 
a swift, covert glance that passed between them did 
not escape Ned’s attention. 

During the remainder of the day he remembered it 
more than once. When dinner was over they all went 
down to the rocks, and Batters and Joe proudly dis- 
played their skill at fishing. In two hours they caught 
fifteen large bass. For bait they used crabs and 
lizards, which they had brought from the mountains. 

In the evening Randy entertained the country lads 
with a mouth organ performance, and at ten o’clock 


BATTERS AND JOE 65 

the visitors went to their camp on the other side of 
the brook. 

It had been a long day, and the Jolly Rovers were 
glad to get to bed. They were too drowsy to think 
about the possibility of another visit from the myste- 
rious boat, and in a very few minutes all were sound 
asleep. 

About midnight — as nearly as he could judge after- 
ward — Ned sat up with a start, firmly convinced that 
some danger was at hand. As he listened with a 
wildly throbbing heart, soft footsteps cracked on the 
pine needles outside, and then the tent flap was torn 
open, revealing against the lingering embers of the 
campfire the semblance of a human form. 

“ Hi ! you chaps in thar ! whispered a gruff and 
unfamiliar voice. “ Get awake, quick ! ” 

The words had a soothing affect on Ned’s fears, and 
satisfied him that the visitor — whoever he was — had 
come in the guise of friendship. He drew a match 
from his pocket and rubbed it on his trousers. It ig- 
nited, and revealed the pale face of Batters, framed 
between the tent and flap. 

“ Great Caesar ! Is it you ? ” exclaimed Ned. 
“ What’s wrong? ” 

“ Hush ! not so loud,” whispered Batters. Put 
that light out, quick ! ” 

Ned obeyed in haste. 

“ Now rouse the other chaps, and do it quietly, so 
they don’t make no noise.” 

This was a pretty stiff order, and Ned had some 


66 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


fears for the result. Happily all went well, and in two 
or three minutes an audience of four trembling and* 
well nigh panic stricken lads was sitting in the dark- 
ness, listening to Batter’s ominous tale. 

“Joe waked me up a little while ago,” he began, 
“ an’ said there was a strange boat, an’ two men in it, 
down by the mouth of the run. I tole Joe ter stay an’ 
watch our stuff. Then I sneaked along the shore an’ 
seen the fellows sittin’ on the beach along side the 
canoes. 

“ I didn’t dare go close enough to hear what they 
was sayin’, so I come right up to the tent. I reckon 
you uns had better make a move afore the canoes 
get carried off. I’ll do what I kin fur you. If we 
all take paddles and run out yellin’ an’ screachin’ 
mebbe the fellars will get scared and make tracks with- 
out showin’ fight.” 

This proposition rather staggered the boys. 

“ The thieves probably want more than the canoes,” 
said Ned. “ It’s very likely they are right outside the 
tent now. I hardly know what we ought to do.” 

“ Let’s give them our money and watches, and any- 
thing else they want,” suggested Nugget. “ If we 
don’t they’ll surely cut our throats.” 

“ Keep quiet ! ” whispered Clay savagely. “ If you 
don’t I’ll throw you out of the tent.” 

At this awful threat Nugget subsided and buried 
his head in his blanket. 

Meanwhile Randy, whose temper was beginning to 
rise at the thought of being robbed, had quietly reached 


BATTERS AND JOE 67 

for his gun, and was fumbling with it under cover of 
the darkness. 

An unlucky move dashed the stock against his lan- 
tern, and the crash of broken glass followed. At the 
same moment Batters called in a loud whisper, “ Here 
they are. I see them movin' among the trees." 

At this startling news a wailing cry broke from 
Nugget, and an instant later a gruff voice called dis- 
tinctly : 

“ Come out of that one at a time, young fellars. 
Move lively, an’ you won’t be harmed.’’ 

There was dead silence for a few seconds, and then 
the command was repeated in a more peremptory 
tone. 

“ They ain’t got no shootin’ weapons,’’ whispered 
Batters ; only short sticks. I can see ’em by the fire- 
hght.’’ 

On hearing this, Randy was seized with a sudden 
access of courage. Gun in hand, he dashed by his com- 
panions to the front of the tent. 

Batters saw the glint of the weapon and made a 
futile grab at it. 

“ Don’t do no shootin’,’’ he whispered hoarsely. 

The warning came too late. Randy stepped out 
from the flaps and raised it to his shoulder. 

“ Make tracks, you villains,’’ he shouted, “ or I’ll 
put daylight through you.’’ (This was a favorite ex- 
pression of Randy’s purloined from the life of Kit 
Carson.) Then, as retreating footsteps were heard, 
he lowered the weapon a little and pulled the trigger. 


68 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


The thunderous report was followed by a yell of 
pain, and two voices hissed out dire threats of venge- 
ance as the baffled men went hastily down the slope. 

As Randy turned toward his companions Batters 
sprang at him and wrenched the weapon from his 
hands. 

“ Didn’t I tell you not to shoot? ” he cried. “ Now 
you’ve gone an’ hit Bug. I kinder feared it might be 
him, but I wasn’t certain. That’s him swearin’ this 
very minute. Oh ! I’ll fix you for this.” 

Pushing Randy to one side and dashing the gun 
on the ground, Batters vanished in the darkness, yell- 
ing at the top of his voice, “ Bug ! Bug ! it’s me ! ” 

The boys were overcome with terror and amaze- 
ment. Who in the world was Bug, and why should 
Batters be so anxious about him ? 

“Why did you do that?” demanded Ned sternly. 
“If you have shot any one don’t expect us to shield 
you.” 

Randy did not reply. He staggered into the tent 
and rolled over in helpless mirth. 

“ It — it was — a salt cartridge,” he finally was able 
to gasp. “ I had — three or four of them. I read 
how to make them — in a book. Didn’t I pepper 
their legs nicely though. 

“ I don’t care what it was,” exclaimed Ned angrily. 
“ You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You’ll break 
up this trip yet with your foolishness.” 

Randy sobered down in a moment or two, and when 
he joined the others outside the tent he was disposed 


BATTERS AND JOE 


69 


to take a less humorous view of his smart perform- 
ance. A light was visible at the mouth of the brook, 
and four figures could be seen around it. 

Joe had evidently joined his brother. The con- 
versation that was carried on was for the most part 
inaudible, but now and then a threatening sentence 
could be heard, or a few words of entreaty. 

“ Serious trouble will come out of this,” said Ned. 
“ For half a cent I’d deliver you over to those fellows. 
Randy. The worst of it is that they were going away 
when you fired.” 

“ Dodging behind trees, that’s all,” replied Randy. 

Not a bit of it,” exclaimed Ned angrily. ‘‘ They 
were running toward the creek.” 

As Clay stoutly backed up this assertion, Randy 
lapsed into sullen silence. He was more frightened 
than he chose to let appear. 

After what seemed a painfully long interval to the 
waiting boys. Batters came softly out of the gloom and 
stood before them. 

“ I reckon there ain’t no more danger,” he said. 
“ It wasn’t Bug what was hit ; the other fellow. He’s 
sittin’ down thar on the stones now, a pickin’ lumps of 
salt out of his legs with a knife blade. He’s mad as 
blazes too, an’ me an Bug had all we could do ter keep 
him from cornin’ back here. 

“ I tole Bug how you saved my life, an’ when he 
heard that he put his foot down an’ swore you chaps 
shouldn’t be harmed. Bug ain’t bad at heart, he ain’t. 
As soon as the other fellow gits all the salt out they’re 


70 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


both going away. They hev a camp somewhere^s 
down the creek.” 

But who are these men, Batters, and what do you 
know about them?” asked Ned. 

The lad hesitated for a moment. 

I reckon I might as well make a clean breast of it,” 
he said in a pitiful tone. “ Don^t you-uns think bad of 
me an’ Joe though, cause we’ve been brung up dif- 
ferent, ’deed we have — .” 

‘‘ Look here. Batters, you needn’t tell us if you don’t 
want to,” interrupted Ned sympathetically. 

He had an inkling of the true state of affairs, and 
wished to spare the lad what was evidently a painful 
recital. 

“ No, I’d better tell,” responded Batters. '' It’s just 
this way. Bug is big brother to me and Joe, only he’s 
about six years older than us. You see when he was 
a little chap dad an’ mammy lived down near Middle- 
sex, an’ Bug he got in bad company. When dad 
moved up to the Gap, Bug was toler’ble bad, an’ since 
then he’s been gittin’ worse. 

“ He was in Carlisle jail twict fer stealing an’ in 
summer he jest lives shiftless like along the creek, 
helpin’ hisself to the farmers’ stuff. Now he dassent 
come home no more, for dad says he won’t own him 
fur a son. Mammy cries heaps an’ says her heart’s 
broke. 

‘‘ You see dad an’ mammy are honest, if they are 
poor, an’ they made me an’ Joe promise we’d never 
take nothin’ what don’t belong to us. Mammy says 


BATTERS AND JOE 


n 


she wants us ter grow up the right way, an’ not be 
bad an’ wuthless like — like Bug — 

Here Batters broke down and began to cry softly. 
His sad little tale — alas ! only too common in all walks 
of life! — had deeply moved his hearers, and more 
than one of the boys had tears in their eyes. 

Ned walked over and threw his arm around the 
weeping lad. 

Don’t cry. Batters,” he said softly. “ Some day 
Bug will find out his mistake and begin to do better. 
We don’t think any the less of you and Joe on his ac- 
count. Stick to your mother, and do what she says, 
and you’ll be sure to grow up the right kind of men.” 

Batters was consoled by this boyish sympathy. He 
wiped his eyes and looked gratefully at Ned. 

“ Here, take this,” said Nugget, holding out a hand- 
some pocket knife. “ It’s got four blades, and a cork- 
screw, and a file.” 

Batters looked doubtfully at the treasure. Randy 
had just lighted a lantern, and the rays flashed on the 
mother of pearl handle. 

“ I want you to have it,” said Nugget, my father 
will send me plenty more from New York.” 

The temptation was too much. Batters took the 
knife with a smile, and incoherently tried to thank the 
donor. 

All at once the creaking of oars was heard, and a 
moment later Joe joined the party. 

They’ve gone,” he anounced. “ T’ other fellow 
got tired pickin’ the salt out. Bug tole him he ought 


72 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


to be glad cause now he was well seasoned. Then the 
fellow jabbed at Bug with a knife. Missed him 
though.” 

“ Well, I’m glad the affair is over,” said Ned. 
'' We’ll be able to get some sleep now. Batters, sup- 
pose you and Joe come in our tent? There is room 
enough.” 

Batters hesitated and gave an awkward hitch to his 
trousers. 

“ I reckon you’d better not do any more sleepin’ 
here,” he said uneasily. “ Bug pulled me aside, and 
said I should tell 3^ou-uns to light out afore 
daybreak, ’cause the other fellar will surely come back 
an’ lay fur the chap what shot him. I dunno where 
Bug picked him up, or who he is. He looks like a 
tramp, with his dirty beard and wicked eyes. H’s a 
mighty bad man when he gits riled, Bug says. It’s 
a pity that chap shot him, ’cause they were both 
running away.” 

“ I know that,” replied Ned, “ and I’m awfully sorry 
it happened. It was a mean, contemptible trick under 
the circumstances. But what had we better do 
now ? ” 

“ Well, I reckon it would be better to pack up and 
start,” advised Batters. “ You see Bug and the other 
fellar have a camp about two mile down the creek. 
lYou can slide right past it in the darkness, and if you 
keep on fur a good ways the fellar what was shot won’t 
find you again. Bug tole me they didn’t intend to go 
much further down the creek. You needn’t be afraid 


BATTERS AND JOE 


73 


to travel by night, 'cause there ain't any bad water 
near here, an' the first dam is twelve mile away." 

Ned was inclined to act promptly on Batters' sug- 
gestions, and it goes without saying that the others 
were of the same mind — especially Randy, who had 
conceived a mortal fear of Bug's companion. 

It was between one and two o’clock when the boys 
began the work of breaking camp, and as Batters and 
Joe rendered useful assistance, the heavily laden canoes 
were in the water half an hour later. The start was 
made in darkness and silence. Ned thanked Batters 
for the important service he had rendered that night, 
and added a few words of comfort and sympathy. 

Hands were shaken all around, and hopes expressed 
of meeting again. Then the Jolly Rovers paddled 
noiselessly away in the gloom, and Batters and Joe 
went up the beach to their shelter of pine boughs. 


CHAPTER VIII 

HOW THE DAY DAWNED 

It was with no pleasant sensations that the boys 
found themselves for the second time adrift in the 
darkness. Not that they had any fears of the journey 
that lay before them; that was a trifling matter com- 
pared to the loss of sleep and the indignity of being 
routed out of their snug beds through no fault of their 
own. 

There was no open complaint, however, and for ten 
or fifteen minutes the silence of the night was dis- 
turbed only by the low swish of the paddles, as the 
four canoes moved abreast down mid-stream. 

This thing is getting monotonous, and I hope it 
won’t happen again,” remarked Ned finally, in a very 
grave voice. “If you fellows had listened to me this 
morning we would be sound asleep this minute in 
some place down the creek, instead of floating here in 
the dark with a forced paddle of ten miles ahead of 
us.” 

“ It’s hard luck, that’s a fact,” muttered Clay. 

“ No luck about it,” retorted Ned. “ It’s pure reck- 
lessness, and Randy is chiefly to blame.” 

74 


HOW THE DAY DAWNED 7 $ 

“ No more than the rest of you/’ growled Randy. 
“ I wasn’t the only one that wanted to stay.” 

“ I don’t mean that/’ said Ned, “ though of course 
the trouble began there. I refer to your foolish act 
a little while ago. If you hadn’t fired that salt car- 
tridge the men would have gone quietly away, and we 
could have remained where we were until morning. 
Now you have made a bitter enemy, and if he don’t 
give us future annoyance it will only be through the 
intercession of Batters’ brother — provided he has- 
enough influence over his companion. 

“ I feel glad in one way that we stayed. Batter 
and Joe are good hearted fellows, if they are rough on 
the outside, and it was a pleasure to become acquainted 
with them. I hope their brother Bug will turn over 
a new leaf some day, and be allowed to go home. 

‘‘ But that wasn’t what I started in to talk about,’^ 
resumed Ned after a brief pause. “ The fact is, 
Randy, that you must be more careful in future. 
You have been to blame for every one of our scrapes 
so far, and if you intend to keep this up we may as 
well abandon the cruise and go home. This is the 
second warning I’ve had to give you. The other one 
don’t seem to have done much good.” 

“ I think you are getting pretty meddlesome, Ned 
Chapman,” exclaimed Randy in a sullen tone ; “ when 
I want any advice from you I’ll ask for it.” 

‘‘ Don’t give way to your temper, now,” returned 
Ned quietly, “ I’m talking for the common good, and 
you know it in your heart.” 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


r6 

Ned’s right,” exclaimed Clay. “ This cruise has 
been a chapter of misadventures from the start, and 
every one of them lies at your door.” 

Randy drove his paddle into the water with furious 
strokes, and was soon a dozen yards ahead of his com- 
panions. 

“ I’ll give you fellows a chance to get out of the 
dumps,” he called back angrily. '' I hope you’ll be in 
a better humor when we meet again.” 

Then he drove the canoe forward so rapidly that 
the dip of the paddle was soon faint in the distance. 

Let him go,” said Ned. “ He can’t come to any 
harm, and it will give him a good chance to cool down. 
That’s the main trouble with Randy. Up comes his 
temper at the least word of rebuke, and though he 
knows that he is wrong, his self will and anger won’t 
let him admit it. I believe he will take this warning 
to heart though.” 

Clay and Nugget did not reply. The former’s con- 
science was a little bit uneasy, for he knew that his 
imprudent utterance had started Randy off in anger. 

The three boys paddled on silently for a while, and 
then Nugget managed to ground the Imp on a con- 
cealed ledge of rocks. It required the united efforts 
of his companions to dislodge it, and even then it was 
a labor of nearly five minutes’ duration. A canvas 
canoe must be handled very carefully when among the 
rocks. 

About this time the moon came out from a bank of 
fleecy clouds, and the light — feeble though it was — 


HOW THE DAY DAWNED 


77 


jenabled the boys to make better speed, and to keep a 
watch ahead for shoals. 

A moment later they wished with all their hearts 
that the moon was on the other side of the globe, for 
a bend in the channel revealed a fire on the right bank, 
a short distance below. The flames were partly 
screened by a fringe of bushes, but not sufficiently to 
prevent the ruddy light from flashing far across the 
water. 

“ That must be Bug Batters’s camp,” whispered 
Ned. 

“ It will be a ticklish operation to get by if the 
men are on the watch. We can manage to, though, if 
we are prudent and don’t lose our heads. Don’t 
breathe a word or make any noise with your paddles. 
Just stick close to me.” 

Ned headed for the left bank, which was thickly 
wooded, and paddled slowly and noiselessly along the 
very edge. The others followed his example, and in 
a short time the three canoes were directly opposite 
the fire. Two dark figures squatting beside it could 
be plainly seen. The dancing reflection of the flames 
revealed the boat pulled partially out of water, and 
stretched far beyond mid channel. 

It was a thrilling moment. Discovery at first 
seemed inevitable, for the men were facing the creek. 
But as no alarm came, and the canoes crept deeper into 
the friendly gloom, the boys began to breathe more 
easily. 

They did not relax their caution until the fire was 


78 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


two or three hundred yards in the rear. Then Ned 
signified that the danger was over by paddling boldly 
and swiftly toward mid-channel. 

I hope we have seen the last of Bug Batters and 
his companion/’ he said, and I really believe that they 
won’t give us any more trouble.” 

‘‘ I’m glad to hear you say so,” replied Qay. 

That’s my opinion, too. If we put about ten miles 
between us and them we ought to feel safe.” 

“ Better make it twenty,” remarked Nugget uneas- 
ily. “ Then we will be twice as safe.” 

‘‘ Oh, that won’t be necessary,” laughed Ned. I 
say, fellows, it must have been a pretty stiff ordeal for 
Randy to go by that fire, within sight of the man he 
peppered with salt.” 

“ Well, I should say so,” returned Clay. “ When 
we catch up with him we’ll ask him how he felt.” 

But that won’t be for some time to come,” said 
Ned, unless we move a little faster. Try to keep up 
with me, and don’t lag behind.” 

He started off with short, quick strokes, and after a 
brief race the others settled down abreast of him. 

The moon outlined the limits of the creek very dis- 
tinctly, shining first from one side, then from the other, 
as the channel followed its tortuous course. The 
water continued deep and fairly swift, and during the 
next hour and a half the boys must have paddled no 
less than six or seven miles. 

Nothing was seen of Randy, but this fact was easily 
explained, since he had gained considerable on his 


HOW THE DAY DAWNED 


79 


companions at the start, and had moreover a light and 
easily running canoe. 

Presently the sky to the eastward became faintly 
streaked with gray, and the close night air was suc- 
ceeded by a fragrant and delicious breeze. Dawn 
came on apace, heralded by the singing of birds, and 
the splashing of fish in search of the early insect. The 
mist began to rise from the water, and in some distant 
barnyard hungry cattle lowed. 

There is some compensation in night travel,” said 
Ned. ‘‘ It will be a treat to see the sun come up. 
Two or three miles more and then we’ll hunt a snug 
camping place, and have a plunge in the creek, and a 
good breakfast on top of it, and sleep until afternoon. 
I don’t feel very tired just now, but I’m ravenously 
hungry.” 

“ So am I,” echoed Clay and Nugget in one breath. 

As the daylight advanced the boys paddled on with 
light hearts. In the long level stretch that was now 
ahead of them no sign of Randy was visible. As the 
next bend — an unusually sharp one — drew near, a 
dull, roaring sound was heard. 

That must be a bit of swift water,” observed Ned ; 

I hope it’s long enough to give us a good spin.” 

“But won’t it be dangerous?” asked Nugget un- 
easily. 

“ Of course not,” replied Clay. “ There couldn’t be 
any danger on a small stream like this, and besides 
Batters told us everything was smooth for twelve miles 
ahead.” 


8o 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


It is more than probable that when Batters made 
this statement he had in mind his own safe and bulky 
craft, which could have stood any amount of rough 
usage without upsetting. But this version of the mat- 
ter did not occur to the boys. They confidently pad- 
died on, hoping to find a stretch of swift water that 
would give them a lift on their journey. 

Just at the commencement of the curve a spit of 
rocks and trees jutted out from the right shore. As 
the boys were whirled swiftly around this, the first 
brief glimpse of what lay beyond proved far from 
satisfactory. 

The creek narrowed to half its former width, and 
the greater part of even this contracted channel was 
rendered unnavigable by a long bar of gravel and 
grass, over which an inch or so of water crawled slug- 
gishly. The main channel — only half a dozen feet 
wide — headed abruptly to the right, and swept at 
breakneck speed in a perfect half circle under the out- 
wardly projecting base of a steep and wooded hill. 
Here and there the bushes hung down to meet the 
madly tossing waves, and swayed violently. 

It was already too late to turn back, and it was 
equally out of the question to cut across the swift rush- 
ing current and gain the shallow bar. Speedy dis- 
aster would have resulted from that step. 

Ned was half a canoe’s length in advance, and with- 
out a second’s delay he swung the bow of the Pioneer 
around to meet the curve of the channel. 

“ Paddle toward the left ! — the left ! ” he shouted 


HOW THE DAY DAWNED 


8i 


hoarsely to his companions. “ Keep your heads down 
when you come to the bushes.'’ 

Ned had no chance to say more. His own affairs 
required his undivided attention. With a dizzy jerk 
he swung into the half circle, rising and falling with 
the huge waves. A few tremendous paddle strokes 
deflected him to the left, and fortunately he cleared the 
outer fringe of bushes. 

Just when the worst seemed to be over the Pioneer 
ran broadside on a submerged rock, tipped instantly, 
and out went Ned head over heels. 

He was dragged clear to the bottom of the rapids 
before he could gain a foothold. Then, waist deep in 
water, he grabbed the Pioneer as it drifted by him, and 
waded with it to a narrow landing place at the base of 
the hill. 

Even less fortunate was Nugget. The dizzy whirl 
of the current and the jolting motion of the waves so 
terrified him that he dropped his paddle and clutched 
the combing with both hands. Then, as the bushes 
directly ahead caught his eye, he threw up his arms 
and seized them. 

The next instant the canoe was whisked from under 
him, leaving him clinging to the frail support, shriek- 
ing with terror and bobbing up and down on the 
waves. He remained in this position only a few sec- 
onds. Clay’s canoe struck him obliquely, and the con- 
cussion caused it to swing broadside and upset. Both 
lads were rolled over and over to the foot of the rapids, 
where Ned helped them and their canoes to shore. 


CHAPTER IX 

A SAFE SHELTER 

For a moment the three wrecked Jolly Rovers could 
only stare blankly at their dripping clothes, and at one 
another. The whole thing had taken place so quickly 
that they did not as yet realize the extent of the mis- 
fortune. 

Finally Ned and Clay broke into a hearty laugh, 
while Nugget sat down on a rock and wiped the tears 
from his eyes. 

“ Hullo, there ! ” cried a familiar voice, as Randy 
appeared from behind a patch of bushes a few yards 
down the shore. “ Great Caesar ! what a mess you fel- 
lows are in ! 

Thanks to you,” replied Ned. “ Why didn’t you 
come up the creek and warn us ? ” 

“ That’s just what I was on my way to do, ’pon my 
honor it was. I couldn’t get here a minute sooner. I 
upset in that beastly place myself, and was carried 
down below those bushes. Look at that ! ” Randy 
pointed to his muddy feet and wet clothes. It was 
evident that he was speaking the truth. 

Well, what’s done can’t be undone,” said Ned. 

82 


A SAFE SHELTER 83 

We must make the best of it. I’m afraid the water 
has spoilt a good deal of our stuff.” 

You can count yourselves lucky if your canoes 
aren’t injured,” rejoined Randy. “ The rocks tore the 
keel nearly off of mine, and it leaks like a basket.” 

Then we are in for a long delay,” exclaimed Ned 
vexatiously. It’s unfortunate just at this time, when 
we ought to be four or five miles farther down the 
stream.” 

“ You won’t think so when I show you the place 
I’ve found,” replied Randy. “We could camp there 
for a month, and no one would be any the wiser. It’s 
over on the left shore where the current first landed 
me. I had a look at the spot and then waded to this 
side with the canoe.” 

“ The first thing is to get dry clothes on,” returned 
Ned. “ The morning air is too cool for comfort.” 

“ Down below here is just the place you want then,” 
said Randy. “ A big gravel bar. The sun shines on 
it beautifully.” 

This statement brought a smile even to Nugget’s 
face, and without delay the boys proceeded down the 
creek. 

As it was impossible to get any wetter they waded, 
pushing the canoes ahead of them. The gravel bar 
was twenty yards below, in mid-channel, and sure 
enough the first rays of the sun fell full upon it. 

The canoes were speedily denuded of everything 
they held, and the gravel was soon strewn with water 
soaked bread, crackers, blankets, fishing rods, writing 


84 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


paper, and envelopes. The other provisions, being in- 
cased in jars, were uninjured; and so also were the 
extra clothes, thanks to the oiled canvas bags in which 
they were wrapped. 

The boys quickly made the change, and stretched 
out their wet garments to dry. The canoes were 
placed bottom up to drain, and after satisfying him- 
self that the Water Sprite was damaged beyond imme- 
diate repair, Ned suggested that Randy should point 
out the place he had discovered. 

The latter was only too willing, and when the boys 
had followed his instructions by rolling their trousers 
above their knees, he led them through the shallow 
water toward the left shore. 

As they advanced nothing was visible but the low 
bank, densely covered with bushes and young timber. 
Randy was several yards in advance, and all at once 
he stooped and disappeared. The others foll6wed his 
example, and when they had waded with bent backs 
under a heavy screen of bushes, they were amazed to 
find themselves in the mouth of a good sized stream. 

The water was knee deep, and flowed gently over a 
bed of sand and pebbles. For a distance of sixty or 
seventy feet inland the stream was three or four yards 
wide ; then came a deep circular pool fed by a brawling 
waterfall that dashed impetuously down a mossy in- 
cline of rocks. On all sides were inviting clumps of 
bushes, and slender trees bending over their weight of 
foliage, while from branch to branch swung foxgrape 
vines. 


A SAFE SHELTER 


85 


Near the head of the pool was a grassy open spot 
shaded by half a dozen monster shellbark trees — a 
perfect little Eden. In fact the whole scene was so 
entrancing to these lads, who well knew how to ap- 
preciate Nature’s most charming moods, that they 
stood still with the cool water surging against their 
knees, to look and listen. 

The sunlight filtered obliquely through the leaves, 
gleaming here and there in the dark thickets like stray 
gold, and shimmering on the eddies of the pool. The 
air was fragrant with the scent of wild flowers, and 
from every direction came the music of birds and the 
busy chattering of squirrels. 

‘‘ I knew you fellows would fall in love with the 
place,” said Randy. “ Just think of spending two or 
three days here — or maybe a week. There’s nothing 
to prevent it. Under those shellbark trees is a grand 
place for a tent, and here is water enough to float fifty 
canoes. The bushes completely hide the entrance, and 
when we are all fixed snug I’ll defy Bug Batters or 
any one else to find us in a month. What do you say, 
Ned? Do you think it’s necessary now to go farther 
down the creek ? ” 

Ned drew a long breath. 

“ I think this is the most beautiful spot I ever saw,” 
he replied. “ I’ll stay here a week if the rest are 
willing.” 

The rest were willing — emphatically so. Clay im- 
mediately began to indulge in visions of trout fishing 
farther up the stream, which must have its source in 


86 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


the mountains. Nugget declared it was a good place 
to rest, while Randy expressed an opinion that game 
was plentiful in the vicinity. 

Having waded to the edge of the pool, where the 
water deepened abruptly, the boys returned as they 
had come, and were soon back on the gravel bar. 
They were too hungry to go to the trouble of making 
a fire, so they breakfasted on damp crackers and dried 
heef, and found them very palatable, too. 

Then, as the sun had already dried the things, the 
canoes were loaded and pushed up the mouth of the 
stream. The boys took good care to remove every 
trace of their presence from the bar, and to deftly 
rearrange the screen of bushes after passing through. 

The tent was soon staked under the shellbark trees, 
and the canoes were carried out beside it. The Jolly 
Rovers now felt as safe as though they were fifty miles 
down the creek. Being pretty well’ exhausted by the 
interruption of the previous night and by their long 
paddle, they made pillows out of their blankets, and 
went to sleep on the grassy floor of the tent. 

But it is not an easy matter to turn day into night, 
and so the boys found it. Ned awoke about noon, and 
threw the flap open so that the sun could stream into 
the tent — as much of it at least as came through the 
thick foliage. It was sufficient to rouse Randy and 
Nugget. Clay was missing, but as his fishing rod 
had also disappeared, no alarm was felt over this 
fact. 

Of course dinner immediately suggested itself, so 


A SAFE SHELTER 87 

Ned started to make the fire, while Randy inspected 
the supplies to see what was available. 

“ Damp crackers and cold meat are about all we can 
count on,” he announced dismally. “ There are only 
a half a dozen potatoes here. You might boil some 
oatmeal, though.” 

We must get along with what we have,” replied 
Ned. “ This afternoon some of us must make a for- 
aging expedition. We can’t be very far from a farm- 
house.” 

The fire was soon blazing merrily, and just as Ned 
placed the cotfee pot on the bars, a cheery whistle rang 
through the woods, and Clay appeared at the head of 
the pool. 

See what you lazy fellows have missed,” he ex- 
claimed, holding up a string of speckled brook trout. 

I caught all those in the last two hours, and tramped 
more than a mile up stream to get them.” 

The boys were delighted at this unexpected addition 
to their dinner, and the spotted beauties were soon 
ready for the frying pan. Hunger made a piquant 
sauce, and the crackers, meat and fish vanished in short 
order. 

‘‘ I intend to let you fellows wash the dishes this 
time,” said Ned, when the meal was concluded. “ I’m 
going after supplies. We certainly need them badly 
enough. Did you see any signs of a farmhouse when 
you were up the stream. Clay ? ” 

No indeed. The woods are thick in every direc- 
tion, and I have no doubt they stretch clear to the 


88 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


mountains. It’s awfully wild and lonesome along tHe 
stream.” 

“ No use in trying that direction then,” replied Ned. 
“ I think ril go down the creek in my canoe.” 

“ Let me go with you,” said Randy. “ You may 
have a big load to carry back you know.” 

Ned hesitated an instant, and then gave his consent. 
He really preferred to be alone, but he saw that Randy 
was very sorry for his recent ill conduct, and wanted 
to make what amends he could. 

Clay loaned Randy his canoe, and promised to re- 
pair the Water Sprite during the latter’s absence. 
Then the foraging expedition paddled out into the 
creek, equipped with tin pails and canvas sacks. 

Clay and Nugget were at no loss to find occupation. 
It required a good half hour to wash and dry the 
dishes, and after that a big stack of firewood was piled 
up. Then the Water Sprite was placed across two 
logs, and Clay proceeded to make the needed repairs. 
Having screwed the keel firmly in place, he thrust 
cotton under its whole length with his knife blade, and 
then put on a plentiful coating of white lead. 

“ There ! ” he exclaimed, as he surveyed his own 
work with satisfaction. That canoe won’t leak a 
drop in the morning. I say. Nugget, let’s go fishing a 
little while. It’s only five o’clock, and the boys won’t 
be back for an hour or two yet.” 

Nothing could have pleased Nugget more. He 
made the proviso, however, that Randy’s gun should be 
taken along. 


A SAFE SHELTER 89 

I don’t know what you’re afraid of,” said Clay ; 
“ but I’ll humor you anyhow.” 

He shouldered the weapon, first looking to see that 
it was loaded, and started up the stream. Nugget 
trudged behind with the two fishing rods. 

Half a mile from camp the boys stopped by a deep 
pool that presented a very tempting aspect. The 
bushes and trees were dense all around it. 

“ This is where I caught my first fish this morning,” 
whispered Clay, as he put a nice fat worm on the hook 
and dropped it in the water. 

Almost instantly the line tightened, and the slender 
rod bent. Clay gave a quick pull, and something shiny 
whizzed through the air, landing with a dull flop some 
yards behind the boys. 

“ That was a big fellow,” exclaimed Clay. “ It flew 
clear off the hook. Get it for me. Nugget, will you? 
I want to catch another.” 

Nugget obligingly dropped the hook he was baitings 
and crawled on hands and knees into the thicket. 

A few seconds later he burst out, yelling wildly for 
help, while a crackling of bushes behind him told 
plainly that something or someone was in close pur- 
suit. 


CHAPTER X 


A TRAMP 'ACROSS COUNTRY 

Nugget dashed by Clay without stopping, and 
crossed the stream, close to the lower end of the pool, 
in two or three frantic leaps. 

Clay was frightened himself, but observing that the 
rustling noise in the thicket had ceased, he boldly stood 
his ground, taking the precaution, however, to ex- 
change his fishing .rod for the gun. 

What’s wrong ? ” he demanded, turning warily to- 
ward Nugget, who was on the opposite side of the 
stream with one hand clasping the low boughs of a 
pine tree. 

There’s some wild animal in there,” cried Nugget 
hoarsely. “ It looked at me with its shining eyes, and 
then growled. Shoot it quick, before it comes out.” 

Just then the rustling in the thicket recommenced, 
and with wonderful celerity Nugget disappeared into 
the heart of the tree. 

But the creature, whatever it might be, was going in 
the opposite direction from the pool. This em- 
boldened Clay, and without hesitation he started in 
pursuit, paying no attention to Nugget’s appealing 
90 


A TRAMP ACROSS COUNTRY 


91 


cries. Guided by the threshing of bushes he pushed 
on for ten or twenty yards. 

Then it suddenly occurred to him that the animal 
might be a wildcat or even a bear, that had strayed 
down from the mountains. A close encounter of this 
nature was by no means to Clay’s liking. He stopped, 
and was just about turning back, when he saw a dark 
object passing through a break in the thicket about 
thirty feet away. 

The shadows were too deep to afford a good glimpse 
pf the animal, but Clay did not hesitate. Drawing 
the gun to his shoulder he took quick aim and 
fired. 

When the smoke cleared the creature had vanished, 
but from a distance came a queer grunting noise min- 
gled with the hasty crashing of the bushes. 

“ I believe that was a bear,” muttered Clay, and 
unless I’m greatly mistaken I put a few shot into his 
hind quarters.” 

He stood listening until the sounds had died away, 
and then retraced his steps toward the pool, satisfied 
that no more trouble was to be apprehended from the 
unwelcome prowler. 

Nugget was still in the tree, and came down very 
reluctantly, even when he knew what had happened. 
Then the boys shouldered their fishing rods and hur- 
ried back to camp, arriving there just as Ned and 
Randy paddled up the mouth of the stream. 

Clay’s adventure — which he related with conscious 
pride — caused somewhat of a sensation. Randy and 


92 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


Nugget wanted to break camp at once, and Clay was 
more than inclined to side with them. 

“ Nonsense ! ” exclaimed Ned. “ I don’t believe it 
was a wild animal at all, and even if it was it would 
hardly come near here again after being shot at.” 

“ Then what could it have been ? ” demanded Clay 
a little sharply. 

“ Some stray domestic creature, as likely as not,” 
answered Ned. 

Clay did not reply. He was far from unwilling to 
accept this version of the affair, though he still had 
his doubts. 

The others were reassured by Ned’s words, and 
when the fruits of the foraging expedition were taken 
from the canoes all else was forgotten but supper. 

“ Won’t we have a feast? ” said Randy. “ Just see 
here, fellows. Fresh, yellow butter, a pail of milk, 
three pies, two loaves of bread, a cup of cheese, a 
picked duck, and potatoes and apples ! We had a time 
to get them, though — a mile and a half down the 
creek, and half a mile over the fields.” 

It was nearly dark when supper was ready, and the 
meal was eaten with such slow enjoyment that nine 
o’clock arrived before the last of the dishes were 
washed and put away. Then the tired boys went to 
bed, after securing the tent flaps with more than usual 
care. 

No alarm disturbed their sleep that night. Wednes- 
day dawned clear as a whistle. Before the sun was 
fairly up the boys took a plunge in the cool depths of 


A TRAMP ACROSS COUNTRY 


93 


the pool, and the result was such a crop of voracious 
appetites that Randy predicted another foraging expe- 
dition before the day was over. 

After breakfast Ned sat down on a stone, and 
spreading a lengthy paper on his knees, began to study 
it intently. 

What have you there ? ” asked Randy. 

'' A map of the Cumberland Valley,” replied Ned. 

Do you know, we almost forgot about our mail ar- 
rangements? It’s a good thing I remembered it this 
morning. If this stream we are camping on now is 
Otter Run — and according to the map it is — then 
West Hill is only half a dozen miles due east of us. 

“ That is the first place we were to expect letters, 
and we won’t get any nearer to it than we are now. I 
think I’ll walk over. You may go with me. Clay, if 
you like. The distance is too much for Nugget, and 
it’s Randy’s turn to stay in camp.” 

No objection was made to this arrangement, and all 
hurriedly produced paper and pencils and sat down on 
the grass to write letters home. 

“ I’m asking for a cake,” said Randy. ‘‘ Where 
shall I have it sent ? ” 

“ Carlisle,” answered Ned. “ We will be there next 
week. Tell them to make it a big one.” 

And not to forget to put icing on it,” added Clay. 

‘‘ Oh, that goes without telling,” said Randy laugh- 
ingly. '' They know what I like.” 

In half an hour all the letters were sealed and ad- 
dressed. Then Ned and Clay brushed off their clothes 


( 


94 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

and put on neckties, greatly to Randy’s amusement. 

What are you laughing at?” exclaimed Ned. 

Don’t you know that we may be invited out to din- 
ner at West Hill? I wish I had a dress suit with 
me. 

What a pity you haven’t,” said Randy mockingly. 
“ Nugget will lend you his yachting cap.” 

Of course I will,” said Nugget in all seriousness. 
'‘Say, Ned,” he whispered, coming up close, "I — I 
have a white shirt in my bag and a dotted vest. I 
thought they might come in handy. You are quite 
welcome to them, you know, if — ” 

Nugget’s indiscreet confession went no further. 
Ned rolled on the ground, choking with laughter. He 
actually couldn’t help it. 

Clay and Randy had heard every word, and poor 
Nugget was finally obliged to take refuge in the 
tent. 

“ This won’t do,” said Ned, struggling to keep a so- 
ber face. "We must be off. I hope you won’t get in 
any fresh scrapes while we are away, Randy. You had 
better stay about camp. You may look for us back 
some time this afternoon — not later than four 
o’clock.” 

" Oh, I won’t have time to get in mischief,” laughed 
Randy. “ It will take all day to write my log book up 
to date. I haven’t touched it since night before last.” 

It was about half past nine o’clock when the boys 
started. They paddled across the creek and landed at 
the foot of the hill. Randy accompanied them in the 


I 


A TRAMP ACROSS COUNTRY 


95 


Water Sprite, so that he could tow the canoe back 
with him. 

Just you fellows sing out,’" he said. ‘‘ Fll hear 
you and come across.” 

“All right,” returned Ned, as he commenced the 
steep ascent of the hill, with Clay at his heels. 

Reaching the summit they turned and waved their 
hands to Randy, who was slowly paddling toward 
camp, far below them. 

Of the camp itself not a vestige could be seen, even 
from this elevation. 

Then the boys set their faces toward the east, and 
strode briskly through the pine forest that covered the 
level plateau. For a mile or two the land was very 
rugged and lonely. Then open fields began to appear 
here and there, and an occasional farmhouse nestled 
amid orchards in a valley, or standing boldly against 
the sky from a hill top. 

Such implicit faith did Ned place in his map that he 
shunned the roads, and did not think it worth while to 
stop at any of the farmhouses to ask information. 
With a view to reaching the village in the most direct 
manner, he cut straight across country, skirting fields 
of grain and corn, it is true, but taking everything 
else as it came — hills, ravines, orchards, and 
meadows. 

And all this time the boys were making one of the 
most foolish blunders that can well be imagined — 
taking into consideration, of course, the peculiar nature 
of the creek and the constantly shifting scenery 


96 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


through which they were passing. Later on, when the 
consequences of their thoughtlessness stared them in 
the face, they wondered how they could have been so 
blind. 

When the farmhouse bells began to clang from dis- 
tant points the boys knew that it was half past eleven 
o’clock. 

“We have surely covered six miles in two hours,” 
said Ned. “ West Hill can’t be far away. No doubt 
we will see it from that next ridge.” 

But when the ridge was gained no village was in 
sight. Something else was visible, however — a nar- 
row country road, running at right angles to the direc- 
tion from which the boys had come ; and nailed to the 
fence was a sign post, inscribed in crooked black let- 
ters as follows: 


To West Hill 
3 Miles. 

There was nothing for it but to go on, and that they 
did in a weary, dispirited manner. 

“ The map can’t be wrong,” said Ned, “ the trouble 
is that we veered a little too far south in our course. 
We’ll make a nearer cut of it on the return trip. Walk 
a little faster. Clay ; it will be a tight squeeze to reach 
camp by four o’clock.” 

It wanted a little less than three hours to that time 
when the boys reached the little cluster of six houses 


A TRAMP ACROSS COUNTRY 


97 


which comprised West Hill. The signboard had prob- 
ably told only half the truth in regard to distance — as 
country signboards usually do. 

The postoffice was, of course, combined with a prod- 
uce store. At this time of day its only occupants 
were the proprietor and a grizzled old farmer puffing 
at a corncob pipe. 

The letters were soon mailed, and in response to 
Ned’s inquiry he was handed a weighty hat box ad- 
dressed to Randolph Moore, and a batch of half a 
dozen letters. 

“ I’ll bet a dollar that’s a cake,” said Clay. It will 
tickle Randy.” 

“ It wouldn’t tickle him if he had to carry it about 
nine miles,” replied Ned ruefully, and the box says 
‘ handle with care,’ too.” 

However, the cake could not be left behind, and the 
boys agreed to carry it by turns. 

“ How far is Otter Run from here in a straight 
line ? ” inquired Ned of the storekeeper. 

“ ’Bout eleven mile,” was the reply. ‘‘ Ain’t that 
kerect. Bowser ? ”, 

“ It’s mor’n that by road,” said the old farmer, tak- 
ing his pipe from his lips. It’s a good thirteen mile 
to Tanner’s Dam, an’ the run comes in just below the 
mill race.” 

The boys exchanged glances of dismay. 

'' That map fooled me after all,” muttered Ned. 

The camp can’t be anywhere near Otter Run.” 

He then explained the situation to the two men, de- 


98 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


scribing as minutely as possible the location of the 
camp. Both wagged their heads dubiously. 

I can’t fix it to a sartainty,” said the storekeeper. 

Nor kin I,” observed Mr. Bowser. ‘‘ There air 
heaps of jest sich runs, an’ high hills an’ bits of bad 
water — same as you chaps tell about.” 

It was evident that no positive information could be 
obtained, so the boys said “ good day,” and left the 
store. 

Under the circumstances we won’t risk making a 
bee line for camp,” said Ned. “ If we had any land- 
marks to go by it would be different.” 

“ Then must we go back the way we came ? ” asked 
Clay. 

“ Exactly ; we have nine weary miles to tramp. I’m 
sorry, but it can’t be helped. Just think of a good sup- 
per and a snug bed. Clay, and you won’t mind the dis- 
tance so much.” 

‘‘ It’s this confounded box that worries me,” mut- 
tered Clay. “ I believe I’d sooner carry a feather bed. 
The crazy thing jerks when I stick it under one arm, 
and if I hug it to my breast it hits me on the chin 
every few seconds. It’s so heavy that the cords cut 
my hand if I try to carry it that way. I wish I could 
balance it on my head.” 

Clay did not exaggerate the perverse and obstinate 
nature of that hat box. It changed bearers no less 
than six times before the mendacious signpost was 
reached, and then its victims were so exhausted that 
they had to lie down on the grass and rest. 


CHAPTER XI 


SEARCHING FOR THE CAMP 

It was already past three o’clock when the boys re- 
sumed their tramp, abandoning the road and heading 
across country along the same course by which they 
had come. 

For the first two or three miles they did not pay any 
special attention to the scenery around them; they 
were kept busy climbing fences and hills, and taking 
care of the refractory cake box, which became more 
and more of a burden every moment. Finally as they 
were descending a long wooded slope, Ned was 
amazed to discover that the mountains, instead of be- 
ing straight ahead, lay off to the right. 

That’s a funny mistake,” he said. “ I wonder 
how long we have been moving parallel with the creek 
instead of toward it ? Some of those snaky ravines we 
passed through must have turned us around witho^it 
our knowing it.” 

I hope we haven’t lost the path,” returned Clay. 

Nothing about here looks familiar to me, but then I 
didn’t pay much attention to the scenery this morning.” 

Neither did I,” replied Ned uneasily, and I’m 
afraid that’s just where we made a big mistake. If we 
99 


100 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


had only noted some landmarks as we came along, we 
would not be in this fix now. It really is a pretty 
serious fix, Clay. You see we can’t tell how long we 
have been traveling in this wrong direction. The only 
thing we can do now is to head straight for the moun- 
tains, and run the chances of striking the creek in the 
vicinity of the camp.” 

That’s true,” assented Clay. ‘‘ I hope we’ll reach 
it before dark. Randy and Nugget will be pretty 
badly scared if we don’t.” 

They started off again, headed this time in the 
proper direction. Of course the mountains were vis- 
ible only at rare intervals, and this added to the per- 
plexity of the situation, since it is very difficult to keep 
on a straight line unless some guiding point is con- 
stantly in view. 

It was soon evident that the boys were far astray 
from the path they had followed that morning. The 
country was more lonely and rugged — a continual 
succession of steep hills and dense bits of forest. Few 
farmhouses were visible, and those only at a distance. 

The sun sank lower and lower as they trudged wear- 
ily along. The many miles already covered that day 
were beginning to tell on them severely. They were 
hungry, too, having eaten nothing since breakfast. 

“ I wish we had bought some crackers and cheese at 
the store,” said Ned; “I thought about it when we 
were nearly a mile away, but it was too late then to go 
back.” 

‘‘ We have Randy’s cake,” replied Clay. “ I’m 


SEARCHING FOR THE CAMP 


lOI 


going to break into it if we don’t soon reach camp. I 
don’t remember when I was so hungry as I am now.” 

“ Wait a little while,” said Ned. “ The creek surely 
can’t be far away. Tne chances are that it lies beyond 
that next hill.” 

The hill to which he had reference was a good half 
mile distant, and the pine trees on its crest loomed 
sharply against the blue sky. Ere reaching it the 
boys were destined to be deprived of their burden in a 
very aggravating manner — and just when they had 
begun to appreciate its value as a means of satisfying 
their hunger. 

As they emerged from a copse of hazel bushes on 
a narrow country road, a big black dog bounded from 
the step of a little cabin a few yards away, and came 
at them in a most ferocious manner. The boys darted 
across the road and into a clover field through a 
broken place in the fence. 

The dog followed, paying not the least attention to 
the loud commands of a woman who stood in the cabin 
door. When Ned wheeled around the brute was with- 
in a dozen feet of him, growling savagely, showing his 
fangs and teeth, and coming on at a pace which meant 
business. 

Shouting had no efifect whatever, and as not a stick 
or a stone was within reach, the boy’s situation was 
far from pleasant. But he had the cake box in his 
arms, and on the impulse of the moment he lifted it 
over his head with both hands and dashed it with all 
his might at the advancing brute. 


102 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


It struck him fairly on the nose, breaking open with 
the force of the blow, and turning the angry snarls 
into a shrill yelp of pain. Ned did not wait to see the 
result, but dashed across the field to overtake Clay. 

When they turned and looked back from a safe dis- 
tance, the dog was greedily devouring the broken cake. 

‘‘We won’t be troubled with that any more,” said 
Ned. “ I had to do it, or the brute would have bitten 
me. I don’t think Randy will blame me much.” 

“ It means good-by to our supper though,” replied 
Clay, “and from the way that dog eats, his appetite 
won’t be more than half satisfied when he finishes the 
cake. We had better be moving on.” 

This was prudent advice, and the boys made quick 
time across the field, not feeling thoroughly safe until 
they were in the shelter of the woods. The ground 
now began to ascend, and a few moments later they 
gained the top of the hill and saw the silvery thread 
of the creek shining far below them. 

It took some time to descend, owing to the steepness 
of the slope, and the rocks and bushes that obstructed 
the way. When they finally reached the water’s edge 
the duskiness of twilight had come, and they knew 
^ that darkness would follow in a short time. 

“ I haven’t the faintest idea where we are,” said Ned 
uneasily ; “ of course we are above the camp, no doubt 
of that ; but just how far, is the important question. I 
feel like kicking myself for making that awful blunder 
to-day. It would be a nice thing if we had to tramp 
all night.” 


SEARCHING FOR THE CAMP 


103 


y'ou don’t think the camp is that far away ? ” ex- 
claimed Clay in alarm. 

“ Oh, no,” replied Ned reassuringly. We’ll prob- 
ably strike it before long. The only thing we can do 
is to follow the creek until we reach it.” 

Ned’s words were far from expressing what was 
really in his mind. He knew that the camp might be 
very close in a straight line, and yet miles away by the 
tortuous windings of the creek. And the latter was 
the only possible course to take. If they attempted 
the former they would almost certainly become hope- 
lessly lost. 

It was soon evident that the worst might be ex- 
pected. In the deepening gloom the boys hurried 
along the shore as fast as their weary feet would take 
them. Then the blackness of the night settled down 
on the water and the forests, and they were compelled 
to move cautiously; for trees and bushes were thick, 
and here and there a ravine had to be crossed, or a 
brawling stream. 

Ned bravely kept up his spirits, and did his best to 
cheer Clay. 

“ It can’t be much farther,” he would say now and 
then ; “ keep your ears open for the roar of those 
rapids. That will tell us when we are near camp.” 

But the night lengthened without bringing the wel- 
come sound, and at last the boys found their progress 
abruptly barred by a steep bluff that fell abruptly into 
the water. It was not the hill that lay in the vicinity 
of camp, else the rapids could surely have been heard. 


104 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

The night was very still, except for an occasional noise 
in the forest that made the boys start. 

They were confronted now by two equally unpleas- 
ant alternatives — either to remain where they were 
until morning, or to make a detour around the hill, and 
try to reach the creek on the lower side. 

They chose the latter, and started up through the 
woods hand in hand. They might have foreseen what 
w'ould happen. The night was very dark, and after 
floundering about through the bushes they became 
hopelessly lost, and knew not which way to turn in 
search of the creek. 

Clay was quite in despair, but Ned persuaded him to 
move on, and after tramping for ten or fifteen minutes 
without the least idea which way they were headed, 
they reached a fence that separated the woods from an 
open field. As they mounted the top bar and perched 
themselves there for a short rest, Ned uttered a cry of 
delight, and pointed out a flickering yellow gleam far 
across* the field. 

“ Hurrah ! that must be the camp,’’ exclaimed Clay, 
springing impetuously from the fence. “ Come on ; 
let’s run for it. I don’t feel a bit tired now.” 

“ Not too fast,” cried Ned warningly. “ You’re 
jumping at a rash conclusion now, Clay. That light 
is in the window of some farmhouse. It stands to 
reason that it can’t be at our camp.” 

Clay stopped and retraced his steps. 

“ I was dead sure it was the campfire,” he said dis- 
mally. “ I thought our troubles were over.” 


SEARCHING FOR THE CAMP 


105 


“ Perhaps they are,” replied Ned slowly. We’ll go 
up to that farmhouse and find out exactly how the land 
lies. If the camp is not far off, we’ll borrow a lantern 
and push on — otherwise we’ll ask for a place to sleep 
until morning.” 

This arrangement was thoroughly satisfactory to 
Clay, and the boys started briskly across the field. 
They found an orchard at the farther end, and after 
passing through this and rounding the corner of the 
barn, they saw the house in front of them. 

It stood in a good sized yard inclosed by a picket 
fence. The light was in one of the upper front rooms, 
where some late retiring member of the family was no 
doubt preparing for bed. 

It won’t do to make any racket,” said Ned, be- 
cause there may be a dog around. We’ll go quietly in 
and rap on the door.” 

The boys softly opened the gate and entered the 
yard. In spite of the utmost caution their feet made 
a crunching noise on the gravel path, and the conse- 
quence was that before they were half way to the 
house a dog began to bark furiously. Worse still, the 
sound came from between them and the fence, so that 
escape was cut off. 

This way,” cried Ned, dashing toward the corner 
of the house. We may find shelter in the outbuild- 
ings.” 

He had taken but a dozen steps when his feet clat- 
tered on some loose boards. These gave way with a 
crash, and after a brief drop through empty space, he 


io6 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

plunged into ice cold water, going clear under the 
surface. 

The noise of the splitting wood that followed warned 
Clay of his danger. He stood stock still, trembling in 
every limb. 

The dog did not appear to be coming any nearer, and 
his shrill barking was now mingled with the clank of 
chains. All at once Clay comprehended the situation. 
The brute was fastened to his kennel somewhere near 
the gate, and was therefore powerless to do harm. 

Clay’s presence of mind quickly returned. He drew 
a match from his pocket and struck it on his shoe just 
as a feeble cry for help came apparently from the bow- 
els of the earth. 

As the blaze flared up Clay saw the partially cov- 
ered mouth of a well just in front of him. The gap 
between the planking showed where Ned had fallen 
through. 

Clay was terribly alarmed, but he had sufficient 
presence of mind to kneel beside the orifice and hold 
the match down. 

“ Are you hurt, Ned? ” he cried huskily. “ Can you 
hold out for a moment or two? ” 

“ Fm all right so far,” came the reply in a feeble, 
chattering voice. “ I can’t stand it long, though. 
The water is over my head, and I’m holding on to the 
cracks in the wall. Waken the family, quick! ” 


CHAPTER XIII 


OVER THE CLIFF 

Neon’s last injunction was quite unnecessary. The 
loud outcry of the dog had already roused the family. 

Heads were poked from two or three windows, and 
a shrill feminine voice was shouting : “ Get the gun, 
pap, get the gun ! 

Meanwhile Clay continued to call for help at the 
top of his voice, finally drowning out the ferocious 
barking of the dog, and after what seemed an in- 
terminable length of time the door of the house opened 
and the farmer appeared on the threshold, attired in 
shirt and trousers. 

He had a gun in one hand and a candle in the other. 
Behind him were two good sized lads armed with 
clubs, while the flutter of a petticoat was visible on 
the stairway. 

“ Hurry ! hurry ! ” cried Clay. There’s some one 
down the well.” 

The farmer crossed the yard with provoking calm- 
ness, holding his gun ready for use. 

“ Why, it’s only a boy ! ” he exclaimed, on catching 
sight of Clay. What are you doing here, you young 
rascal ? ” 


107 


io8 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


“ Don’t stop to ask questions now,” implored Clay. 

Get my friend out of the well, or he will be 
drowned.” 

The farmer uttered an exclamation, and peeped 
through the broken boards. Then he seized the 
bucket that Vv^as suspended by a windlass over the well 
and quickly lowered it. 

“ Catch hold down there,” he shouted gruffly. 

“ All right, go ahead,” came the sepulchral response, 
a moment later. 

The farmer and his two sons threw their weight on 
the handle of the windlass, and after considerable 
creaking and groaning Ned was brought to the sur- 
face and helped out on the ground. His face and 
hands were blue and his teeth chattered violently. 

“ Bring the poor fellow right in,” called the farm- 
er’s wife from the porch, where she had witnessed the 
whole affair. ‘‘ I’ll go light the fire.” 

“ The rascal don’t deserve it,” muttered the farmer, 
but nevertheless he led the boys into the house, and 
thence to a large room containing a stove, a table, a 
huge settee and half a dozen chairs. A lamp was 
burning on the mantel, and a pleasant faced old lady 
was bustling about the stove. 

Ned’s wet clothes were quickly stripped off, and he 
was rolled in blankets and made to lie down on the 
settee. Presently the old lady brought him a bowl of 
steaming camomile tea, and after he had swallowed 
most of the nauseous mixture he began to feel quite 
liimself again. Then, seeing that the farmer was sus- 


OVER THE CLIFF 


109 


picious and anxious for an explanation, he insisted on 
talking, and related the whole story in such a clear 
and concise manner that his hearers were thoroughly 
convinced. 

The farmer thawed out, and showed himself in his 
true colors — a genial, kind-hearted old man. He told 
the boys his name was Adam Plunkett, and laughingly 
apologized for mistaking them for thieves. 

When Mrs. Plunkett heard that they had eaten 
nothing since breakfast she immediately began to set 
the table — in spite of the fact that it was then half 
past ten o’clock. Ned refused to be treated as an in- 
valid any longer, so Mr. Plunkett gave him a suit of 
clothes to wear while his own were drying. 

The food was soon ready, and the famished boys 
did it full justice. 

“ I reckon you’ll want to go to bed now,” said Mr. 
Plunkett; “ you must be worn out after all that tramp. 
In the morning I’ll tell you how to find your camp. I 
recognize the place from your description. It’s about 
five miles and a half from here by road, and a good 
bit further by the creek.” 

The boys gasped with amazement. It was hard to 
realize that they had strayed so far out of their way. 

‘‘ I’m afraid our companions will be greatly wor- 
ried,” said Ned. “ That’s all I’m thinking about.” 

“ A little worry won’t hurt ’em,” asserted Mr. Plun- 
kett cheerfully. “ It’ll do ’em good, and make them 
more glad to see you in the morning.” 

This bit of philosophy had its effect on the boys, and 


no 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


the last trace of anxiety vanished when their host con- 
ducted them to the room they were to occupy. It was 
the typical country spare bed-chamber.” Home 
spun carpet covered the floor, and on the walls were 
cardboard mottoes in walnut frames, a sampler yellow 
with age, and portraits of George and Martha Wash- 
ington. The bed was a huge four poster, and stood 
so high that the boys had to give a spring in order to 
climb in. 

They fell asleep almost instantly, ‘and found it dif- 
ficult to get up in the morning when the farmer 
banged on the door with his heavy fist. 

Mrs. Plunkett had a delicious breakfast ready when 
the boys came down stairs, and after they had eaten 
their fill the farmer carefully instructed them how to 
reach their camp — or rather how to reach a certain 
point on the creek which was less than a quarter of a 
mile above the rapids. 

The boys had read the character of their hosts suf- 
ficiently well to know that it would be regarded as an 
insult if they should offer them money. So they 
thanked them profusely for their generous treatment, 
and said “ good-by,” promising to stop if they ever 
chanced to be in that vicinity again. 

After a good sleep and a good breakfast the five 
mile walk was a trifle to the boys. They had no dif- 
ficulty in following the directions, and about half past 
ten o’clock they turned aside from the road and en- 
tered a piece of woods. 

Ten minutes later they stood on the bank of the 


OVER THE CLIFF 


III 


creek, listening to the familiar sound of the rapids 
below them. The steep hill began at this point, mak- 
ing it impossible to follow the shore, so they began 
the ascent and reached the crest after a pretty stiff 
climb. The camp was now directly opposite, though 
entirely concealed by the huge shellbark trees. 

“ Let’s give them the yell,” said Ned. He placed 
his hand to his mouth and uttered a regular Indian 
war whoop that woke the echoes for a long distance. 
Clay did the same, and they both stopped to listen. 

A minute went by in silence, and then another. No 
glad shout of welcome rang out from the trees. No 
graceful canoe parted the fringe of bushes that con- 
cealed the mouth of the run. 

What was the matter? Were the boys sleeping so 
soundly that the signal could not rouse them? This 
seemed the only possible explanation, so Clay and Ned 
shouted more vigorously than ever, and kept it up 
until they were hoarse. 

Not a sound came back. The silence of the morn- 
ing was absolutely unbroken. 

The boys looked at each other with pale and fright- 
ened faces. They dared not even whisper the terri- 
ble thoughts that were in their minds. Then, by tacit 
consent, they scrambled down the ragged face of the 
hill, and at great peril to life and limb gained the bot- 
tom in three or four minutes. 

They partly undressed to wade to the gravel bar, for 
the water was more than waist deep. Here they 
stopped a moment to put on their clothes, and then, 


II2 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


with trousers rolled high up, they waded to the mouth 
of the stream, and pushed eagerly through the screen 
of bushes. 

The scene that met their gaze filled them with dread 
and amazement. The glade was deserted. Every 
vestige of the camp had disappeared. 

For a moment the boys could scarcely believe the 
evidence of their own eyes. They hurried forward 
and inspected every foot of the ground. 

Absolutely nothing had been left behind. The 
downtrodden grass, where the tent had stood, was the 
only evidence to show that a camp had recently been 
here. 

“ This is a bigger mystery than I can see through,’' 
said Ned as he bent over the blackened stones of the 
fireplace. The boys must have left here some time 
yesterday, for these ashes are cold. It looks as though 
they had to leave in a hurry, too, for if they had any 
time to spare they would surely have placed a mes- 
sage where we could see it. I have examined all the 
trees and bushes, and there is no sign of any.” 

• “ It’s a bad business,” replied Clay. “ The boys 
would not have broken camp without some cause. I 
only hope that Bug Batters and his companions had 
nothing to do with it.” 

The same fear was in Ned’s mind just then, and it 
was very natural that it should be. How else could 
the disappearance of the boys be accounted for? 

‘‘ We can’t tell anything about it,” he answered 
evasively, ‘‘and it would be very foolish to jump at 


OVER THE CLIFF 


113 


the worst conclusions. It will be our best plan to 
start down the creek at once, and I have no doubt 
we’ll find the camp before very long. It’s not at all 
likely the boys have moved far away.” 

But they may have concealed themselves some- 
where,” said Clay, “ and besides we don’t know which 
bank they are on.” 

“ We’ll keep a sharp lookout on both sides,” replied 
Ned. “ If we shout every now and then I don’t think 
we can miss them. We had better start right away. 
I’m getting tired of wandering about the country in 
this fashion. It will feel awfully good to climb in a 
canoe again.” 

Clay warmly assented to this, and after a last lin- 
gering glance at the shady thickets and the eddying 
surface of the pool, the boys plodded off through the 
woods. 

For a time they experienced no difficulty in follow- 
ing the edge of the creek, and thus scrutinizing the 
opposite shore as well as the one they were on. Oc- 
casionally they shouted; first at rare intervals, then 
more frequently as they advanced farther along the 
creek. 

At the expiration of an hour and a half they 
had traveled three or four miles, and rounded a 
couple of large bends without getting any response to 
their calls, or finding the least trace of the missing 
boys. 

Then a precipitous hill blocked the way, extending 
a considerable distance along the creek, and leading 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


1 14 

sheer to the water from a variable height of forty ta 
sixty feet. 

“ No use in going around it, Ned. We’ll follow the 
crest so we can watch the opposite shore.” 

They easily gained the summit, and found a sort of 
open path between the edge of the thick pine forest 
and the verge of the cliff. It was half a dozen feet 
wide and had quite a downward slope. There was 
quite an element of danger connected with the ascent, 
since it was slippery with a coating of pine needles. 
The boys did not think of this, however. Of course 
they kept close to the trees, but as their gaze was fixed 
on the opposite shore, which was in plain view far 
below them, they could not pick out their footing as 
carefully as they should have done. 

Pine needles are treacherous things, even on level 
ground, and when Clay happened to step on a partic- 
ularly thick bunch his foot slipped and he was thrown 
quickly on his side. Before he could realize his dan- 
ger he slid to the verge of the precipice — where there 
was nothing to stop him — and vanished from sight. 

Ned was horror stricken, and had to clutch the 
nearest tree for support. Half a dozen seconds 
passed, but the splash that he dreaded to hear did not 
come. Then he made his way cautiously to a rock 
that jutted from the cliff half a dozen feet from where 
Clay had fallen. Ned threw himself flat on his breast 
and peered down. 

Clay was twenty feet below him clinging to a bunch 
of stout bushes that grew in a crevice of the cliff. His 


OVER THE CLIFF 


115 

feet rested on a tiny ledge no more than six inches 
wide, and below him was a clear drop of thirty feet to 
the dark surface of the creek. 

Ned realized his utter inability to render aid, and 
his agony found vent in a sharp cry. 

Clay turned a white, pitiful face upward. 

“ You can’t help me,” he gasped hoarsely. “ The 
bushes are tearing loose. If the water is deep I stand 
a chance. Try to get — ” 

His feeble voice was smothered by a sharp ripping 
noise, and the next instant he plunged downward, at- 
tended by a shower of dirt and stones. 


CHAPTER XIII 


WHAT CLAY SHOT 

We must now take the reader back to the previous 
morning, and see what befell Randy and Nugget after 
their companions had started for West Hill. Nugget 
amused himself until dinner time by fishing at the 
mouth of the run, and caught a number of sunfish and 
chubs. 

When he returned Randy had just finished entering 
the events of the cruise in the log book. Then they 
started in to get dinner, and Randy proved himself no 
novice in culinary affairs by frying a delicious panful 
of fish and boiling some excellent coffee. 

The distasteful work of washing the dishes was duly 
performed, and then they began to consider what they 
should do next. Randy wanted to go away up the 
stream for trout, but Nugget was unwilling to trust 
himself in the woods after his experience of the pre- 
vious evening, and was equally determined not to re- 
main alone in camp. 

This obstinate conduct roused Randy’s temper, and 
indications pointed a lively quarrel. 

ii6 


WHAT CLAY SHOT 


117 

“ I never saw such a coward/’ he exclaimed angrily. 
“You’re a nice fellow to go on a canoe trip, I must 
say.” 

“ I’m not a coward,” returned Nugget hotly. “ I’m 
not afraid of you, anyhow, and if you call me any 
more names I’ll show you something.” 

Randy laughed scornfully, and was about to make a 
bitter reply when a trampling noise was heard in the 
woods behind the tent, followed by a violent agitation 
of the bushes. A few seconds later a big brindle cow 
appeared on the scene, followed by a small boy shout- 
ing “ Hi ! hi ! ” at the top of his voice. 

The cow was evidently in no mood to listen to argu- 
ment; she pranced at the tent with lowered horns, 
knocked it flat, and trampled with dirty hoofs over the 
clean canvas. 

Then she rushed at Nugget with a vicious bellow, 
and after pursuing him a few yards in the direction of 
the creek, she suddenly changed her mind, and charged 
on Randy and the small boy, who were standing by 
the edge of the pool. The latter escaped by dodging 
nimbly to one side, but Randy was not agile enough, 
and as the cow brushed by him her revolving tail 
lashed him smartly over the face, and tumbled him 
into the pool. 

He emerged dripping wet, and mad as a hornet, just 
in time to see the cow retreating in the direction she 
had come, with the small boy in pursuit. 

“ Look here,” cried Randy, “ what do you mean by 
letting a vicious animal like that run loose? Look at 


ii8 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

that tent, and look at the condition I’m in. For half 
a cent I’d get my gun and shoot the brute.” 

The boy stopped at the edge of the bushes and 
looked back. He was quite a little fellow, with sun- 
burned legs and face. 

“ That cow has more right here than you-uns,” he 
said sullenly. My uncle Dan owns this land. He 
knows you-uns are here, and he’s cornin’ down pretty 
soon, too. He says you-uns will be sorry you shot 
that calf afore he gits done with you.” 

Randy stared at the lad in amazement, and then a 
sudden light broke on his mind. 

“ That explains the bear story,” he muttered, and 
then added to Nugget, who had just ventured to come 
forward: “ You fellows have got us in a pretty mess. 
It was a calf that Clay shot last night. I’m glad it’s 
not my fault this time.” 

A calf ! ” exclaimed Nugget. ‘‘ I don’t see how it 
can be possible. It had shiny eyes.” 

The calf was shot, anyhow,” said the boy. “ It 
got astray yesterday afternoon, and our hired man 
found it this morning. It ain’t hurt very bad, an 
Uncle Dan thinks it’ll get well. That’s the reason the 
cow is so cross, ’cause she can’t have the calf with her. 
She broke the fence down this morning an’ got into 
the woods. I’ll have a hard time gittin’ her home 
again.” 

You say your uncle is cross about the calf ? ” asked 
Randy. 

He’s hoppin’ mad,” said the boy. “ He’s going to 


WHAT CLAY SHOT 


119 

give you all a lickin’, an’ then hev you locked up for 
trespassin’.” 

“ But suppose we explain to him that it was all a 
mistake, and offer to pay the damages,” continued 
Randy, “ wouldn’t that satisfy him ? ” 

The boy shook his head. 

‘‘ Uncle Dan ain’t that kind. When he gets mad 
nobody kin stop him. I reckon he’ll lick you chaps 
pretty hard.” 

I reckon he won’t,” said Randy, decisively. Not 
if we know ourselves. Pitch in and help. Nugget; 
we must light out of this as quick as possible.” 

Nugget was only too willing to lend his aid, and the 
tent was speedily rolled up, and deposited in the cock- 
pit of the Pioneer, where it belonged. 

“ Uncle Dan may be here any minute,” said the boy. 
“ You-uns had better wait.” 

“ Say, you’d like to see us licked, wouldn’t you ? ” 
inquired Randy. I’m sorry we can’t oblige you by 
staying. Here is a dollar for your uncle to square up 
the damage to the calf. Just say to him that it was a 
mistake, and thi.t he needn’t come after us, because we 
are going straight through to Harrisburg.” 

The lad pocketed the money, and after looking on 
for a little while in silence he went away to hunt the 
refractory cow. 

The boys worked with feverish energy — not forget- 
ting to keep a sharp eye on the woods — and in 
scarcely more time than it takes to tell everything was 
in the canoes. 


120 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


It goes hard to leave here,” said Randy, but it 
can’t be helped. It would be a nice ending to the canoe 
trip if we got locked up for trespassing. I hope the 
dollar will satisfy that man.” 

“ What are we going to do about Ned and Clay? ” 
asked Nugget. 

“I’ll attend to that,” replied Randy, as he stepped 
into the Water Sprite and tied its stern to the bow of 
the Pioneer. 

The other two canoes were arranged in the same 
way, and then the boys paddled quickly out of the 
stream. 

They first crossed to the other side of the creek, 
where Randy wrote a short explanatory note for Ned 
and Clay, instructing them to follow the creek down 
about three or four miles. 

“ It won’t be safe for us to stop short of that dis- 
tance,” he remarked as he pinned the big white doc- 
ument to a tree at the base of the hill. 

“ The boys can’t miss this when they come down to 
the water. They ought to be here in about two 
hours.” 

Having arranged their means of communication, 
Randy climbed back into the canoe, and led the way 
down stream. Progress was necessarily tedious, since 
the current was sluggish, and each had an additional 
canoe in tow. They felt more at ease when they had 
passed round the first bend, and after paddling for two 
or three miles — as nearly as could be judged — they 
began to search for a good camping place. 


WHAT CLAY SHOT 


I2I 


They did not find one that suited their requirements 
for some time, but finally, while drifting along the base 
of a precipitous cliff, they came to a good sized cleft 
or hollow. It was half a dozen yards wide. It sloped 
gradually upward, narrowing as it went, until it ter- 
minated in a ravine which seemed to continue on to 
the top of the hill. 

The beach was hard and stony ground, with a few 
stunted bushes, but there was ample room for a tent, 
and moreover on each side was a sheer wall of rock 
towering forty feet in the air. 

The boys landed, and with much difficulty dragged 
the canoes out of the water. 

‘‘ This place just suits us,’’ said Randy. There is 
no danger of the farmer finding us here, if we are on 
his side of the creek. And we need not be afraid to 
keep a fire going, because these rocks will shut out the 
light.” 

It was now half past four o’clock, and when the tent 
had been pitched — a difficult piece of work for two 
persons — and the canoes unloaded, the boys began to 
prepare a good supper in readiness for Ned and 
Clay. 

Six o’clock came, and then seven, but the anxiously 
expected ones did not appear on the other side of the 
creek. 

Randy and Nugget were too hungry to wait any 
longer, so they ate their supper by twilight. When it 
grew a little darker they built a roaring fire at the edge 
of the water. There was an abundance of driftwood 


122 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


farther up the slope, which had been left there at 
various times by the high water. 

When nine o’clock came the boys were seriously 
alarmed, and all sorts of dreadful possibilities occurred 
to them. They found it impossible to sleep,, and all 
through the long hours of that night they sat about the 
fire, constantly piling on wood, and keeping a huge 
blaze going to guide the missing ones to the camp. 

The first glimmer of dawn found them worn out by 
sleeplessness and despair. It was impossible to main- 
tain their vigil any longer, so they stuck the pennant in 
the sand close to the edge of the water, and crawling 
into the tent, went to sleep side by side. 

A cannon shot could hardly have wakened them 
then. The sun rose higher and higher until its direct 
rays beat fiercely down upon the tent from a cloudless 
sky above, but still they slumbered on. 

The heat finally became intolerable, and Randy 
turned drowsily over and opened his eyes. As he sat 
up with an effort, struggling to clear his mind, he 
heard a tremendous splash, and then a loud, shrill 
cry. 

He was thoroughly awake now, and jerking Nug- 
get to an upright position, he turned and ran out of 
the tent. He gained the shore and looked up stream. 

A thick mass of bushes was drifting leisurely along 
the base of the cliff a dozen feet above, and something 
behind it — as yet invisible — was making a great 
commotion in the water. 

Then a head appeared, and a pair of struggling 


WHAT CLAY SHOT 


I2S 


arms, and to his joy and amazement Randy recognized 
Clay. The lad’s strength barely sufficed to reach the 
shore, and Randy helped him out on land just as Nug- 
get came running from the tent. 

Clay staggered up the slope and dropped down in 
the bushes. 

I fell off the cliff,” he stammered with chattering 
teeth. “ Ned is up there ; call to him.” 

Randy and Nugget shouted with all their might, and 
a reply was heard instantly. Then Ned appeared far 
up on the cliff and waved his hand. He vanished at 
once, and a moment later came impetuously down the 
ravine, leaping rocks and bushes in his haste. 

His face was paler than the boys had ever seen it, 
and tears stood in his eyes. He hurriedly clasped 
hands with Randy and Nugget, and approached Clay. 

“ Are you hurt, old fellow ? ” he asked huskily. 
“ That was a wonderful escape. I thought it was all 
up with you.” 

Clay smiled faintly. 

“ I’ll be all right in a little while. I’m suffering 
from the shock, that’s all. I don’t think there is a 
bruise on me.” 

A fire was quickly made, while Ned explained to his 
companions the catastrophe that had happened on the 
cliff. Then Clay was stripped and rubbed down with 
a coarse towel, and after his dry clothes were on he 
declared he felt as well as ever. 

A good dinner was prepared, and when all were 
seated around the flat rock that served for a table, Ned 


124 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


produced the packet of letters and gave a minute ac- 
count of the wanderings and adventures which it had 
cost to obtain them. The story of Randy’s cake pro- 
voked much laughter, and Randy assured Ned that he 
had done the proper thing under the circumstances. 

Then the other side of the story was told, and lis- 
tened to with even greater interest. Clay was chaffed 
unmercifully about the calf, and Nugget also came in 
for a goodly share of ridicule. 

The failure of the boys to find Randy’s letter was a 
mystery at first, but Ned finally suggested that it had 
been blown into the water, which was no doubt the 
case. 


CHAPTER XIV 


CAUGHT IN THE WHIRLPOOL 

About three o’clock the boys broke camp. They 
were now thoroughly rested, and eager to be on the 
water again. Moreover the cleft among the rocks — 
though admirably adapted for a hiding place — had 
none of the qualifications which a good camping site 
should possess. 

A paddle of two miles brought the party to Tanner’s 
Dam, and when they had carried the canoes around 
and embarked on the lower side they passed the mouth 
of the real Otter Run. This enabled Ned to fix their 
bearings definitely on the map, and he resolved to keep 
close track of the topography of the creek in the future. 

About six o’clock a beautiful place to camp was 
found on the left shore of the creek ; shade was abun- 
dant, and the soil was level and grassy. A few yards 
up the beach a spring bubbled and spurted from a nest 
of rocks. 

As the boys landed a flock of wild ducks flew up 
with a great splashing, and winged their way down the 
creek. Along the opposite shore, which was flat and 
marshy, yellow-legged snipe were running to and fro, 
and a couple of gray herons standing contentedly on 
125 


126 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


one leg, were gobbling minnows from the shallow 
pools. 

This was now Thursday evening. It would be a 
week on the morrow since the Jolly Rovers had started 
on their cruise. They were so pleased with the loca- 
tion of the camp, and the opportunities it seemed to 
offer that they concluded to remain for a while, and 
here they spent Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Mon- 
day. 

The keen and peaceful enjoyments of those four 
days were in vivid contrast to the turbulent, adven- 
turous life the boys had led during the past week. 
They looked back upon it afterward as the brightest 
period of their cruise. 

Sunday was spent quietly in camp, but the remainder 
of the time was filled up with all sorts of occupations. 
Randy shot numerous snipe and woodcock. Clay and 
Nugget gave thtir attention to fishing, and caught al- 
together some thirty or forty large bass — not count- 
ing the trout which they snared in a neighboring 
brook. 

Ned found his keenest enjoyment in wandering over 
the country from farmhouse to farmhouse and bring- 
ing back tempting supplies. He was a born forager, 
and well understood the art of making bargains with 
the farmers. 

The boys lived on the fat of the land, and at very 
slight cost. The diet of fish and game was constantly 
varied by green corn, new potatoes, sometimes peaches 
or melons, and occasionally a plump duck or chicken. 


CAUGHT IN THE WHIRLPOOL 


127 


Only on one day did it rain, and this merely served to 
make the fish bite better. 

But each and every one of the Jolly Rovers had the 
true instinct of the canoeist, and when Monday’s sun 
dropped redly behind the hills they were eager to start 
afresh on their wanderings. Their arms tingled to 
grasp the paddle and drive the graceful canoe over 
the blue water; they longed to explore the great un- 
known territory that lay in front of them, to seek new 
camping grounds and new adventures. 

At eight o’clock on Tuesday morning the crimson 
and gold pennant stood stiffly against the breeze as it 
led the little fleet from the spot where so many happy 
hours had been spent. 

It was a glorious day — a day when all living things 
should have been happy. So it seemed to the boys as 
they paddled lazily down mid-channel with the slant- 
ing sunbeams on their bronzed and radiant faces. 

But the business of life went on* just the same 
around them. The hungry bass with his piratical 
black fin just cutting the surface, scattered the shoals 
of minnows, and sadly lessened their numbers. The 
kingfisher scooped occasionally from his perch to re- 
turn with a shining morsel, and the gray heron stalked 
among the pools like a duck on stilts, searching the 
muddy bottom for tender young frogs. 

Back in the forest the crows and the blue jays were 
waging a bitter squallish conflict, and here and there 
weary toilers among the yellow grain dropped their 
scythes to watch the canoes drifting by. 


128 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


But the problem of life cast no shadow on the 
Jolly Rovers, and they paddled on contentedly, finding 
something new to admire every few minutes. 

Nugget was more than usually happy that morning. 
The past few days had taught him the bright side of 
canoeing, and he fondly hoped to find the future just 
as smooth and free from snags. 

He was dipping his paddle from side to side in a 
leisurely way when his eyes chanced to rest on the 
bottom of the cockpit. Right between his knees was 
a flat little head with two bead-like eyes and a red 
tongue that darted quickly in and out. Attached to 
the head was a long gracefully coiled body, mottled 
like the skin of a brook trout. 

The yell that burst from Nugget’s lips would have 
done credit to a Sioux warrior. It scared the snake 
half out of its wits, and the reptile wriggled under 
the bottom board. 

“ Help ! Murder ! Snakes ! ” roared Nugget, partly 
rising and clutching the combing with both hands. 

Help me, help me ! I’ll be bitten. I’ll die.” 

“Where is it?” cried Ned, paddling alongside. 

“ Stamp on it,” shouted Randy. “ Throw it out and 
I’ll shoot it.” 

Nugget only yelled the more and shook the canoe 
so violently by his antics that it threatened to tip over. 

“ Be careful,” Ned warned him. “ You will upset. 
Paddle to shore and we’ll take the snake out for you.” 

“ I can’t, I can’t,” shrieked Nugget. “ My paddle 
fell overboard. There it goes.” 


CAUGHT IN THE WHIRLPOOL 


129 


Ned and Clay started simultaneously for the drift- 
ing paddle, but they had hardly taken a dozen strokes 
when the snake thrust his head out of a crevice in 
the bottom boards. 

This proved too much for Nugget. Uttering yell 
after yell he sprang to his feet and tried to climb out 
on the foredeck of the canoe. The Imp refused to 
stand such treatment, and tipped over instantly, throw- 
ing Nugget head first into the water. 

Fortunately the creek was shallow at this point, 
and after going under a couple of times, and swallow- 
ing a quantity of water — owing to his persistent yell- 
ing — Nugget gained a foothold without the aid of 
his friends, and waded shoulder deep for the nearest 
shore. 

Amid all the confusion the snake escaped in some 
manner from the overturned canoe, and swam rapidly 
down stream. Ned and Clay went in pursuit, but the 
reptile was too swift for them, and safely gained a 
patch of reeds. 

The Imp was quickly righted and towed to shore. 
The contents were little damaged, and Nugget made 
haste to change his clothes. 

“ I’d like to know how that snake got in my canoe,” 
he said angrily. It was a beastly mean trick.” 

“ I don’t believe it was a trick at all,” exclaimed Ned 
laughingly. “ The snake must have crawled in when 
the canoe was lying on shore, bottom up. It no doubt 
thought it had found a nice snug place to live.” 

That’s the way it happened, of course,” said 


130 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


Randy. No one would have been mean enough to 
put it in on purpose.” 

Clay said nothing, but turned abruptly aside and 
began to busy himself with his canoe. 

The delay was of brief duration, and the Jolly 
Rovers were soon afloat again. Nugget had stretched 
his wet clothes across the fore and rear deck of his 
canoe, so that the sun would quickly dry them. 

About noon, while the boys were paddling through 
a deep and narrow part of the creek, Ned called atten- 
tion to a bunch of ducks that were feeding in the reeds 
some distance down the right shore. All eyes were 
turned in that direction, and consequently no one hap- 
pened to glance toward the opposite bank. 

Clay had fallen a little behind his companions, and 
was three or four yards to the left of them. He was 
drifting along with his gaze fixed on the ducks, when 
all at once his canoe began to twist and oscillate in a 
most alarming manner. 

He turned quickly to see what was the m.atter, and 
the first glance sent a chill of fear to his heart. He 
was on the edge of a violently agitated patch of water 
that kept moving round and round in constantly nar- 
rowing circles until it ended in a funnel shaped aper- 
ture that went beneath the surface, and was itself 
whirling in dizzy revolutions. 

Even as he looked his canoe drifted into the second 
circle, and mounted toward a great rock fifty or sixty 
feet high that rose straight from the water on the left 
shore. 


CAUGHT IN THE WHIRLPOOL 


131 

Clay realized his situation instantly. He was caught 
in the whirlpool which some of the farmers had spoken 
about in a vague manner, as though they doubted its 
existence. There was no doubt about it now. The 
whirlpool was a stern reality, and he was fast in its 
embrace. 

Without calling his companions, Clay tried to paddle 
away from the circling current. But to his horror and 
consternation the canoe was unmanageable. The vio- 
lent paddle strokes simply made it swing around on 
its keel. 

Then Clay became terribly frightened, and shouted 
for help. It was indeed high time. He had already 
drifted to the base of the rock where the whirlpool 
terminated, and was now swinging back toward the 
center of the creek. 

The appeal for help — though its meaning was not 
comprehended at first — brought the other boys to 
Clay’s assistance. That is to say they paddled toward 
the dangerous spot and were within an ace of getting 
in the same fix, when Clay frantically warned them 
back. 

“ Keep away ! keep away ! ’’ he shouted. “ You 
must find some other way to help me.” 

Ned was the first to grasp the situation. During the 
last few days he had heard more than one tale about 
this dreaded whirlpool with its merciless undertow, 
and now it made him sick and faint to see Clay’s peril, 
and yet be unable to devise a way of helping him. 

For so it seemed then. It would be simple folly 


132 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


and madness for the others to trust themselves near 
the rapacious current; yet how else could help reach 
the imperiled lad? 

The whirlpool was thirty feet in diameter, and 
while Randy and Nugget were looking on with white, 
scared faces, and Ned was vainly trying to plan a 
means of rescue, Clay was slowly drifting around the 
circle, coming nearer each time to the gurgling funnel 
in the center — and this in spite of the most strenuous 
paddling. Each stroke, in fact, only deflected the 
canoe sideways, as though it had no keel, and increased 
the risk of upsetting. 

None realized the danger more than Clay himself 
and the horror of those few short minutes — they 
seemed more like hours — he never forgot. 

It was not likely of course that the heavy canoe could 
be dragged clear under water; the whirlpool was no 
such gigantic thing as that. But it was absolutely cer- 
tain that when the canoe reached the funnel shaped 
aperture in the center it would instantly be overturned, 
and just as surely Clay would be sucked into the black 
depths below, and whirled off by the fierce undercur- 
rent with no possible chance of reaching the surface. 

This was the awful fate that stared him in the face ; 
and all that while he drifted nearer and nearer the end, 
crying vainly for help, and beating the frothy water 
with his paddle. 


CHAPTER XV 
randy’s proposition 


At the moment when Clay’s situation seemed most 
hopeless — and while his horrified companions were 
looking on with the silence of despair — Nugget leaned 
forward in his canoe, opened the hatch, and drew out 
a big ball of cord. 

“ Ned ! Ned ! ” he shouted eagerly, “ can you do any- 
thing with this outline? I forgot I had it.” 

Ned’s face flushed with joy, and paddling alongside 
of Nugget he snatched the cord. 

“ Follow me to the shore,” he cried, “ and you too, 
Randy.” 

An instant later the three lads were standing on the 
gravel beach, separated from the whirlpool by no less 
than sixty or seventy feet. 

Ned waved his hand to Clay, and shouted hoarsely : 
“ Fight hard, old fellow ! We’ll save you in a min- 
ute.” 

Then turning quickly to his cornpanions he de- 
manded : ‘‘ How long is this line ? ” 

“ One hundred and forty feet, answ^ered Nugget. 

The man I bought it from said so.” 

Ned tied the end of it to a ring in the stern of the 
133 


134 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


Pioneer, and ran down the beach, unrolling the ball 
as he went. Sixty feet away he stopped and cut the 
cord, then he hurried back with the remainder in his 
hand. He tied a short stick to the end of the ball, and 
throwing both into his canoe scrambled after them. 

“ Now you fellows keep tight hold of that,” he di- 
rected, pointing to the cord that lay outstretched on the 
beach. “ Pay it out as I go, and when I give the word 
pull with all your might.” 

Randy and Nugget began to understand now, and 
they allowed the line to trail through their fingers as 
Ned paddled furiously away, heading for a point a 
little above the whirlpool. 

It was a critical and intensely exciting moment. 
Clay had divined what Ned intended to do, and with 
this gleam of hope to animate him, he was fighting des- 
perately to keep away from the gurgling hollow which 
was slowly sucking him into its embrace. 

There was scant time to spare when Ned ceased pad- 
dling a few feet above and to the right of the whirl- 
pool, and allowed the canoe to drift down stream 
broadside. But he was wonderfully cool headed and 
self-possessed, as, with deft fingers he unwrapped the 
ball of cord and coiled it between his knees. Then he 
twisted one end about his left hand, and with the right 
seized the short, heavy stick. 

He was now directly opposite Clay, and measuring 
the distance with a quick eye, he flung the stick straight 
out. It rose in the air, dragging the cord gracefully 
after it, and fell across the combing of Clay's canoe. 


RANDY’S PROPOSITION 


135 


Ned uttered a sigh of relief, and Randy and Nug- 
get cheered wildly from the shore. 

But the danger was not over yet, though Gay had 
instantly seized the line. The canoe would upset at 
once if an attempt were made to drag it broadside out 
of the whirlpool. 

Clay comprehended this, and he was quick witted 
enough to solve the problem. Though his canoe was 
now verging on the trough of the whirlpool, he calmly 
tied the line around one blade of his paddle and pressed 
this with all his might against the big screw eye that 
was set in the bow of the canoe. 

'' All right,’’ he shouted hoarsely. 

Ned turned and waved his hand to Randy and Nug- 
get. They understood the signal, and instantly began 
to haul on the line. 

The Pioneer moved slowly toward shore, and the 
next instant the strain reached Clay. It was concen- 
trated in the right place, too, and after a couple of re- 
fractory tugs, as though the whirlpool was loath to 
surrender its victim, the Neptune headed about and 
slowly followed the Pioneer. 

This was, if possible, a more exciting moment than 
any that had preceded it. So much depended on the 
two lines. If either broke disaster would follow. 

But the cords did their duty nobly, and soon Clay 
was beyond the swirling circles. A few seconds later 
the Pioneer touched shore, and then three willing pairs 
of hands dragged the Neptune in so forcibly that a 
great wave rolled before the bow. 


136 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


The boys had to help Clay out and prop him against 
a tree ; and for nearly five minutes he sat there so white 
and helpless that they feared he would faint. A drink 
of water seemed to revive him some, and finally the 
color came back to his cheeks. 

Fm all right now,'’ he said, as he got up and 
walked a few steps. For a little while I felt like 
keeling over, and no wonder, after what I went 
through out there." 

“ It was a close call," asserted Ned. Nugget 
didn’t remember about that line a minute too soon. 
The credit of your rescue belongs to him." 

“ No it doesn’t," said Nugget bashfully. “ You did 
the work." 

Clay looked from one to the other, and then held out 
his hand to Nugget. 

'' It was your outline and your suggestion," he said 
in a low voice. ‘‘ You saved my life. Will you for- 
give me, old fellow? I put that snake in your canoe 
this morning, and am awfully sorry I did it." 

Nugget hesitated an instant. Then he blushingly 
accepted the proffered hand and said : 

We’ll let the matter drop. Clay. I know you won’t 
do anything like that again." 

No, I won’t," replied Clay earnestly. I’m done 
with practical jokes. It was only a garter snake, 
though I caught it with a forked stick." 

Ned and Randy had been at first inclined to pitch 
into Clay, but seeing that he was sincerely repentant 
they wisely concluded to ignore his fault, hoping that 


RANDY’S PROPOSITION 


137 


the lesson would really prove beneficial, and cure him 
of the fondness for playing tricks. 

After a light lunch the Jolly Rovers started off 
again. They were anxious to get as far as possible 
from the whirlpool. During the early part of the af- 
ternoon they paddled and drifted by turns, for Clay 
was still a little weak from his experience. 

Between three and four o’clock a bend of the creek 
brought into view an old wooden bridge. The piers 
were mossy and crumbling to ruins, and the roof and 
pool. At the foot of a ledge of rocks on the left shore 
sides had been guiltless of paint for many a long year. 

Just below the bridge the creek widened to a kind of 
sat three men holding long fishing poles. Their at- 
tention seemed to be given to a fourth man, who was 
sitting in a boat near by, talking earnestly, and point- 
ing from time to time out on the creek. 

A spring was visible a little above the fishermen, 
and as the boys happened to be thirsty they paddled 
over to it. 

The canoes immediately became objects of interest, 
and a friendly conversation was started. 

The man in the boat stepped out, and picked up 
Randy’s gun. 

“ That’s a purty nice weapon,” he observed in a 
mournful voice. “ It ain’t unlike the one I lost, only 
mine was longer, and a leetle bit lighter. It was a 
muzzle loader, though, and this is one of them new 
fangled kind.” 

‘‘ How did you lose yours? ” inquired Randy. 


138 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


“ It sunk out there/' replied the man, pointing to- 
ward mid-channel. “ I was driftin' along when I 
seen a muskrat in the reeds on t'other shore. I stood 
up to reach the gun, an' just as I got holt of it my foot 
slipped on a wet board, an' down I come. The weapon 
went overboard, an’ that was the end of it. It riles 
me bad, 'cause that gun belonged to my old daddy." 

When did this happen ? " asked Randy. 

“ 'Bout half an hour ago ; anyway not much mor'n 
that." 

“ But the gun surely isn’t lost for good. Why don’t 
you dive after it ? ’’ 

The man thrust his hands into his pockets and stared 
blankly at Randy. The three fishermen smiled and 
nudged each other. 

“ Why don’t you dive after it ? " repeated Randy. 
“ If you can tell me the exact location I’ll get it for 
you." 

“You will, will you?" exclaimed the man impres- 
sively. “ Waal, I reckon you’d have a stiff contract. 
Did you fellows never hear of Rudy's Hole? Thar it 
lies right in front of you, and there ain’t no bottom 
to it.” 

“ Hold on, Mose Hocker," exclaimed one of the 
fishermen. “ There must be bottom somewheres, of 
course, but it’s mighty far down." 

The boys looked at one another incredulously and 
smiled. The idea of a bottomless hole in the Cono- 
doguinet was ridiculous. 

At that moment an old man with bent back and 


RANDY’S PROPOSITION 


139 


'white hair hobbled down the path from the road above, 
leaning heavily on his cane, which was his constant 
companion. 

“ Good afternoon, Daddy Perkiss,’’ exclaimed Mose 
Hocker. “ Fm glad you come along. I lost my gun 
out in the Hole a while ago, and this chap here offers 
to dive arter it. You’ve lived around these parts nigh 
onto eighty years. Tell him how fur down he’ll have 
to go to reach that weapon.” 

Ho ! Ho ! ” cackled Daddy Perkiss, as he tremb- 
lingly sat down on a drift log, “ the lad wants to dive 
in Rudy’s Hole, does he? Well, let him try, let him 
try.” 

The old man was silent for a moment, and his bleary 
eyes had a far away expression as though they were 
looking into the dim past. 

“It be sixty years since Jonas Rudy were drowned 
out here,” he mumbled in a shrill voice, “ an they ain’t 
found the body to this day. I were away at the time, 
drivin’ a teamster’s wagon to Pittsburg, but I mind 
bearin’ the story when I come home. Many a time 
I’ve heard tell how they tried to find bottom the next 
spring after Jonas was drowned. 

“ Mike Berry, the blacksmith over at Four Corners, 
brought his anvil, an’ the men made the women folks 
give up their clotheslines. Then they went out on the 
hole in the old ferryboat, and let down the anvil. 
There was two hundred feet of line in all, an’ when 
half of it were out the men lost their grip. The rest 
■went like greased lightnin’, an’ the end got coiled 


140 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


around Mike Berry’s yaller dog, an’ took it along. 
The poor beast never came up again.” 

Daddy Perkiss paused for sheer want of breath, and 
looked around to note the effect of his story. 

“ That yarn was started years ago,” whispered Mose 
[Hocker, coming close up to the boys, '' an’ Daddy has 
told it so many times that he believes every word. I 
reckon the most of it’s true though. It would take 
more’n one clothesline to reach bottom out here.” 

“ But has the place never been sounded ? ” asked 
Ned. “Have you never tried it yourself?” 

Mose Hocker shook his head vigorously. “ What 
would be the use ? ” he replied. “ Nobody doubts it. 
Why, Rudy’s Hole is known an’ dreaded for miles 
around.” 

Evidently regarding this argument as a clincher he 
turned aside, and began to talk to Daddy Perkiss. 

About this time Randy was doing a good deal of 
thinking. He had listened with incredulous interest 
to the old man’s narrative, and knowing how prone 
country folk are to accept any fanciful story — espe- 
cially a long standing tradition — without ever at- 
tempting to verify it, the conviction had forced itself 
upon his mind that Rudy’s Hole was a myth — in other 
words that its depth was nothing extraordinary. 

Randy was a good swimmer, but a far better diver. 
He was long winded, and his staying qualities under 
water had always been a source of admiration and envy 
to his companions. 

It now occurred to him, with irresistible fascina- 


RANDY’S PROPOSITION 


141 

tion, what a fine thing it would be to recover Mose 
Hocker’s gun, and show these people what a delusion 
they had been laboring under all their lives. 

It took Randy but a short time to make up his mind, 
and walking over to Mose Hocker, he asked abruptly : 
“Could you tell me just where your gun fell in? ” 

“ I reckon I could if there was any need of it,” was 
the drawling reply. “ I happened to notice my bear- 
ings at the time. I was straight down from that rock 
out there, and straight out from the big button wood 
tree on yonder shore — right over the deepest part 
of the Hole.” 

“ All right ! ” said Randy quietly. “ Now if you 
will lend me your boat for about ten minutes I think I 
can restore you your gun.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


A SHATTERED DELUSION 

The burst of derisive laughter that greeted his prop-^ 
osition in no way disconcerted Randy. He waited- 
quietly until it was over, and then repeated his request. 

“ Ho ! ho ! ’’ cackled Daddy Perkiss ; is the lad 
tired of livin’, or kin he breathe under water like a 
fish?” 

He’s a stout hearted chap,” cried Mose Hocker, 
‘‘ and sense his mind’s bent on takin’ a good long dive 
I reckon he kin have the boat. There ain’t no un- 
dercurrent out there as I know of, so he ain’t likely 
to come to harm, and besides I’m mighty anxious to 
git my gun back.” 

Here Mr. Hocker winked slyly at Daddy Perkiss 
and the fishermen. 

The old man failed to appreciate the joke. 

‘‘ It’s temptin’ Providence,” he cried shrilly, pound- 
ing his cane on the beach. “ If you ever sees that 
weapon agin, Mose Hocker, I’ll give you ten pounds 
of the best plug terbacker that Bill Smith has in his 
store.” 

“ That’s a bargain,” exclaimed Mose. ‘‘ You fel- 
lows can testify to what he said.” 

142 


A SHATTERED DELUSION 


143 


Then turning to Randy he added with a laugh, 
“ Don’t fail me now, lad. Ten pounds of terbacker 
ain’t picked up every day.” 

“ Just give me a fair show and I’ll astonish you all 
before long,” replied Randy, moving toward the boat. 

Ned, will you go with me ? ” he added. 

Ned willingly agreed, much to the amazement of 
Clay and Nugget, who expected him to oppose Ran- 
dy’s project with all his might. The truth of the 
matter was that Ned, being a sensible fellow, shared 
Randy’s view, and was rather anxious to see the ta- 
bles turned on the credulous rustics. 

He was satisfied from the smooth and sluggish ap- 
pearance of the water that a dive would not be at- 
tended with danger. 

In some unaccountable manner the news seemed to 
have spread through the neighborhood, and when Ned 
and Randy embarked, the crowd had been augmented 
by three men and two bare-footed urchins. A wagon 
containing two farmers had stopped at the entrance 
of the bridge, and the occupants were tying the horse 
preparatory to coming down. 

Mose Hocker’s boat was a large, heavy craft, built 
on the order of a bateau^ and was admirably adapted 
to Randy’s purpose. The boys paddled up stream a 
little until they were directly below the rock Hocker 
had designated. Then, while the boat drifted down 
with a barely perceptible motion, Randy hastily un- 
dressed. 

“ It’s a pity we didn’t bring a fishing line along,” 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


si44 

observed Ned. “ I could ascertain the depth for you 
in a minute.’^ 

“ We don’t need it,” replied Randy. I was never 
in better wind than I am now. If there’s a bottom at 
all I’ll find it.” 

The boat was now one hundred feet below the 
rock, and a stroke or two of Ned’s paddle put it in 
line with the big buttonwood tree on the right shore. 

‘‘ This is just about the exact spot,” said Randy, 
surveying with a critical eye the rock and then the 
tree. “ Hold the boat steady, Ned. I’ll be ready in 
a second or two.” 

This was not a difficult task, for the water was as 
smooth as a mill pond and almost as motionless. 

Clay and Nugget had by this time paddled out in 
their canoes to witness operations, and the little group 
on the shore were waiting in breathless silence. 

Randy was prepared now, and suddenly he mounted 
the broad stern seat, and stood on the outer edge. 

An audible murmur came from the shore, and 
Daddy Perkiss mumbled shrilly : “ They’re right over 

the middle of the Hole.” 

“ Paddle down a little,” said Randy in a quiet tone 
to Clay and Nugget. “ You obstruct the view. Still 
in the right location, are we?” he inquired of Ned. 

“ Yes, as near as possible,” was the reply. “ Be 
careful, old fellow ! ” 

Randy smiled and glanced at the expectant crowd 
on the shore. Then he drew a long breath, pressed 
his hands together and dived gracefully into the 


A SHATTERED DELUSION 


145 


cloudy blue water. It was done so quickly and clev- 
erly that no loud splash followed, nor was the boat 
violently shaken. 

As the seconds passed on not the least sound broke 
the stillness; every eye was fixed on the spot where 
the lad had disappeared, and every heart was beating 
tumultuously. 

The seconds grew almost to a minute, and still the 
smooth surface remained unbroken. Ned’s hand 
trembled as he kept the boat in position, and Clay and 
Nugget exchanged frightened glances. 

“ I knew it,” cried Daddy Perkiss in a cracked voice. 

That lad will never be seen again. He’s gone down 
to meet Jonas Rudy.” 

This ill boding prophecy had scarcely left the old 
man’s lips, when Randy shot into view a few feet to 
the left of where he had disappeared. Half a dozen 
strokes brought him to the boat, and with Ned’s as- 
sistance he scrambled over the side. 

His hands were empty. 

A burst of laughter came from shore, and Daddy 
Perkiss cried triumphantly : “ Where’s the gun, lad ? 

Did you find bottom ? ” 

Randy only waved his hand in reply. He was pant- 
ing a little for breath, but his face wore a very peculiar 
smile — a smile that quite baffled the three eager boys. 

‘‘What luck?” queried Ned excitedly. “How far 
down were you ? Did you find anything ? ” 

“ You will know before long,” replied Randy with 
aggravating calmness. “ Keep the boat in the same 


146 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


place, Ned. One more stroke. There, that’s it. 
Here goes for another.” 

He quickly mounted the seat again, and drew in his 
breath. 

“ Hold on, young fellar,” cried Mose Hocker in a 
loud voice, “ Don’t risk your life a second time. I kin 
stand the loss of that terbacker.” 

Randy laughed, waved his hand, and went under 
head foremost. 

The suspense was now greater than on the previous 
occasion. Ned began to count, and when the half 
minute expired his face grew pale. 

Thirty-five — forty — three-quarters of a minute ! 
No sign of the reckless diver. Had some undercur- 
rent dragged him far down in those blue depths? 

When the forty-ninth second had expired a loud 
murmur rose from the people on shore, and just a sec- 
ond later it changed to a deafening burst of applause 
as Randy shot above the surface holding in his right 
hand — Mose Hockey’s gun. 

His face was fairly purple for want of breath, and 
he had scarcely enough strength to gain the side of 
the boat. He threw the gun over first and then, with 
Ned’s aid, rolled into the bottom, where he lay for a 
moment, panting for breath. 

Cheer after cheer came from shore, and the boys 
joined in heartily. Randy was all right in a moment, 
and as Ned paddled across the creek, he hurriedly 
pulled on his clothes. 

When the boat landed by the rocks such a scene 


A SHATTERED DELUSION 


147 


ensued as no pen can describe. The men crowded 
about Randy with eager congratulations, and fairly 
pumped his arms off. 

Mose Hocker snatched the gun and waved it tri- 
umphantly before Daddy Perkiss. 

“ What do you think of that ? ’’ he cried. The 
lad brought it clean up from the bottom of Rudy's 
hole, ril take that ten pounds of terbacker, Daddy, 
as soon as you please." 

“ Shoo, now ! thar's some trick about the thing," 
mumbled the old man petulantly. You can’t make 
me believe that Rudy’s Hole ain’t two or three hun- 
dred feet deep." 

“ But here’s the gun to prove it," said Mose, “ an’ 
we all saw the lad bring it up. Let him speak for him- 
self, and say whether he touched bottom or not." 

“ Of course I touched bottom," returned Randy 
with a slight shiver at the recollection. “ It was the 
biggest dive I ever made. The water must be fifteen 
or twenty feet deep. It’s not any more than that, 
though. I thought I’d never come to the top the sec- 
ond time. I was just ready to burst when I found 
the gun, and the weight of it kept me from coming up 
rapidly." 

Daddy heard the lad through, and then, with a con- 
temptuous sniff, he rose and hobbled up the path. 

“ Don’t forgit the terbacker," Mose Hocker shouted 
after him. 

The old man made no reply, and was soon out of 
sight. 


148 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


'' It’s a hard blow for Daddy,” said one of the 
fishermen, “ an’ the same in fact fur all of us, I 
reckon. I’ve been brung up from a lad in the full 
belief that Rudy’s Hole were well nigh bottomless.”* 

“ And I,” “ and I,” cried half a dozen voices. 

“ It will be most amazin’ news to the whole com- 
munity,” said Mose Hocker, “ an’ mebbe it’ll teach 
folks to investigate things. I’m kinder scurry for 
Daddy Perkiss. It was his chief delight to tell that 
story to every stranger what come along, an’ now he 
won’t dare to open his lips about Rudy’s Hole. When 
I get the terbacker I’ll give you fellows a plug 
apiece.” 

Three or four of the men laughed at this, as though 
they had their doubts on the subject. 

Oh, I’ll keep Daddy to his word,” resumed Mose. 

He kin easily afford it.” Then turning to the boys 
he said abruptly, “ I want you boys to come down 
the creek and spend the night at my place. I’ll try 
to treat you well. The recovery of that gun means 
a good deal to me, and I want to do what I kin in 
return.” 

Several other invitations of a similiar nature were 
extended to the Jolly Rovers, but they accepted Mose 
Hocker’s without hesitation. A few moments later 
they paddled down the creek, cheered loudly by the 
admiring spectators. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE STORM BREAKS 

The Jolly Rovers were agreeably surprised when 
they reached Mose Hocker’s ‘‘ place.” Instead of the 
farmhouse, which they had confidently expected, it 
proved to be a snug little cabin standing in a dense bit 
of woods along the creek, and distant from Rudy’s 
Hole about one mile. 

Mose was a tall, wiry, middle aged man, with a 
smooth shaven face. 

I’ve always been fond of hunting and fishing,” he 
explained to the boys, “ an’ about two year ago I built 
this place, an’ moved in. It stands on my own land. 
I have a farm back yonder, but after my wife died I 
put a tenant on my property. The life didnt’ agree 
with me, somehow or other.” 

“ I reckon I’ve got a streak of my daddy’s wild 
blood. He was a great hunter in his day, and that’s 
why I prize this gun so much. It was made in Lon- 
don by John Armstrong in 1874 — so that silver plate 
on the breech says — and if it is old fashioned it kin 
shoot. You chaps ought to be here in the fall when 
the ducks and geese are moving — I’d show you some 
sport.” 


149 


150 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


Mr. HcKker proved himself a delightful host. His 
cabin was crammed full of curious contrivances for 
catching fish and trapping game, the various uses of 
which he took delight in explaining to the boys. He 
was an adept at cooking — as the bountiful evening 
meal proved — and he possessed a fund of adventur- 
ous stories that made the hours pass quickly until bed- 
time. 

He spread blankets and pillows on the floor for his 
guests, and after the wearisome events of the day they 
slept soundly until dawn. 

A plunge in the creek was first in order, and then 
came a warm breakfast. An hour later, with many 
sincere expressions of regret at parting, the Jolly 
Rovers resumed their cruise. Mr. Hocker pressed 
them to stay a couple of days, but they deemed it best 
to push on, since they were yet many miles from 
home. 

Little did they think as they paddled away from the 
cabin, that they and their friendly host would meet 
again under far different circumstances in the near 
future. 

All that day — which was Wednesday — the boys 
paddled steadily. They camped in the evening at the 
water works dam, one mile out from Carlisle, and 
while Clay and Randy prepared supper, Ned and Nug- 
get went to town for mail. Fortunately they visited 
the express office as well, and found a cake there ad- 
dressed to Randy. They brought it triumphantly 
back to camp — a straight road precluded the possi- 


THE STORM BREAKS 


isr 

bility of losing the way on this occasion — and had a 
glorious feast before going to bed. 

Thursday was a repetition of the previous day. 
Nothing occurred worthy of special mention. The 
boys covered ten or fifteen miles in spite of the dams 
that frequently blocked the way. 

About four o’clock in the afternoon, while passing 
through a lonely and beautiful strip of country, they 
came upon five tiny islands grouped together in mid 
channel. The largest was not more than a dozen 
yards long. All were grassy and shaded by trees, 
and they made a pretty picture with the water rippling 
softly through the narrow winding channels that 
separated them. 

As the bushes and timber on both banks of the 
creek were very dense, the boys chose one of the 
islands for a camping place — the left hand one of 
two that lay a little farther down stream than the 
others. It was two or three feet above the surface 
of the creek, level and grassy on top, and contained 
seven or eight good sized trees. 

The largest of these — a massive buttonwood — 
stood at the extreme lower end, and its whitened, far 
stretching roots had been laid bare by the current that 
came sweeping down each side, formed a shallow 
swirling eddy. 

Here the boys landed, and seeing that the steepness 
of the bank would make it a difficult task to carry 
the canoes up — if indeed there was room to spare 
above — they tied them in a bunch to the roots of the 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


152 

tree. Then stripping off their shoes and stockings, 
they waded about in the shallow water unloading what 
articles they wanted, and carrying them up on the 
bank. 

The tent was staked in the center of the island, and 
the boys did not discover, until too late, that the 
entrance faced up stream. 

“ Let it go,” said Ned. ‘‘ It’s a little unhandy for 
the canoes, that’s all. We must be careful not to trip 
over the ropes, though.” 

There was another reason why the tent should have 
faced the opposite way. It was exposed, in its present 
position, to any storm that might come up from the 
west. 

But this did not occur to the boys, and very natur- 
ally, since the sky was cloudless and the air but moder- 
ately warm. It had not been such a day as usually 
brews July thunderstorms. 

After considerable searching, two stones suitable 
for the fireplace were found in the eddy. There was 
an utter lack of fuel on the island, so Ned and Randy 
paddled to shore and loaded their canoes with drift- 
wood. 

Two weeks of camp life had now familiarized each 
lad with the duties that were assigned to him, and by 
working in unison supper was soon prepared. 

The boys lingered over the meal a good while, and 
it was quite dark when the dishes were washed and 
put away. 

At nine o’clock all were sleeping soundly behind 


THE STORM BREAKS 


153 


the tightly drawn tent flaps, and the fire was mingling 
its red flashes with the moonlight glow on the rippling 
surface of te creek. 

Ten o’clock came — eleven — twelve. Not a breath 
of air was stirring; a dead, oppressive calm, like the 
sultriness of noonday, had settled down on land and 
water. Half an hour later the west was inky black 
with massed storm clouds and fleecy forerunners of 
the coming tempest were straying one after another 
across the moon. 

All unconscious of impending danger the boys slept 
peacefully, nor did they awake until the storm was 
upon them in all its fury. Dazed and terrified they 
crouched close together, watching the jagged purple 
flashes that turned night into noonday, listening to the 
furious patter of the rain and the crashing of thunder, 
and shivering where the oozing drops fell in their 
faces from the saturated canvas. 

Streams of water were trickling across the ground, 
and the tent was tugging, like a thing of life, to free 
itself from the iron stakes. 

Ned groped about until he found the lantern, and 
with great difficulty he lit it. Nugget was trembling 
like a leaf, but the others were, so far, more disgusted 
than frightened. A possible ducking, and the loss of 
a night’s sleep, was the most they dreaded. 

But soon the presence of a real and actual danger 
made itself known. The wind rose to such a point 
of violence that it was little short of a hurricane. 
Trees began to go down here and there, and the pas- 


154 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


sage of the gale through the forest on each shore was 
like the whirring flight of myriads of quail. 

The tent was slightly protected by the timber on the 
upper point of the island; otherwise it must have 
yielded to the first onslaught of the storm. 

“ This is terrible/’ whispered Ned. “ If it grows 
any worse Tm afraid we will fare badly. The tent is 
strained to its utmost now.” 

“ Even the iron stakes won’t hold it if the wind 
gets through the flaps,” said Randy in a dismal tone. 

They were silent for a moment, listening to the in- 
creasing fury of the gale. 

Oh ! this is awful,” wailed Nugget. The water 
is running down my neck, and I’m sitting in a big 
puddle. It’s coming in all around me.” 

“ You ought to be thankful you’re not sitting in the 
open air,” muttered Clay. That may be the next 
thing.” 

At Ned’s suggestion — which, strange to say, had 
not occurred to any one before — the boys overhauled 
their clothing bags and put on their rubber coats. 
Each was provided with one of those useful articles. 

As they sat about the flickering flame of the lan- 
tern a more furious gust than any that had preceded 
came shrieking down the creek. In the midst of its 
passage a great crash was heard, so loud and so near 
that the very ground seems to tremble. 

The boys could not repress a cry of terror. A 
tree had fallen close by, and they dreaded lest an- 
other would crush the tent. 


THE STORM BREAKS 


155 


‘‘ Gracious ! what if that was the big buttonwood ! 
cried Randy. Our canoes — ” 

His agitated face finished the sentence more plainly 
than words could have done. 

Ned rose, pulling his coat close about him, and 
seized the lantern. 

I must see about that,’^ he said hoarsely. Stay 
right here. I will be back in a moment.’^ 

Before the others could utter a word of protest, he 
lifted the rear end of the canvas half a foot, and, with 
lantern in hand, squirmed through like a snake, leav- 
ing the tent in utter darkness. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


AT THE MERCY OF THE TEMPEST 

The wind was so violent that Ned dared not stand 
erect. He crossed on hands and knees the brief stretch 
that separated the tent from the lower end of the 
island. 

The buttonwood was still standing — much to his 
relief — and the canoes were so far uninjured, though 
the gale was knocking them together pretty forcibly. 

Bracing himself against the buttonwood, Ned turned 
the lantern in all directions, and soon discovered the 
tree which had caused such alarm by its fall. It lay 
prostrate on the other island, but as a channel barely 
half a dozen yards wide separated the two, it was not 
surprising that the crash should have sounded very 
near. 

The storm still raged with unabated fury. The 
lightning played incessantly over the heavens, and 
the thunder was continuous. 

Ned took advantage of a lull in the wind to start 
on his return, but he had scarcely left the tree when 
the lantern slipped from his hand, and was extin- 
guished by the fall. He found it after a short search, 
and as he could see plainly enough without a light, 
156 


AT THE MERCY OF THE TEMPEST 


157 


he pushed on toward the tent, bending his body for- 
ward to escape the cutting rain. 

A sudden fierce blast of wind compelled him to 
crouch close to the ground, and just as he rose a jag- 
ged flash of lightning turned the blackness into a pur- 
ple glare. Ned’s eyes happened to be resting on the 
channel between the two islands, and in that brief in- 
stant of light he saw a boat gliding swiftly down the 
current, cutting gracefully through the great waves 
that rose to meet it. 

On the rear seat, paddle in hand, sat a man. A dark 
slouch hat, pulled far down, concealed his features. 
He seemed perfectly at home, and in no wise discom- 
fited by the storm that was raging around him. 

As the vivid light faded away Ned ran back to the 
buttonwood tree, and watched the blurred shape of the 
boat as it came down the channel. He breathed a 
sigh of relief when it passed out from the islands and 
continued on through the gloom, for his first thought 
had been that some danger menaced the camp. 

Why a man should voluntarily expose himself to 
such a pitiless storm, and at such an hour of the night, 
was a mystery too deep for Ned’s comprehension. It 
was certain, at all events, that the stranger was abroad 
for no good purpose. 

Either his errand was in no wise connected with the 
Jolly Rovers, or else he had passed close by the tent 
without seeing it — even when the flash of lightning 
made the night as bright as noonday. 

Ned waited beside the buttonwood tree until an- 


158 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


Other flash gave him a brief glimpse of the boat far be- 
low the island. Then he hurried back to the tent and 
crawled under the rear end. The boys immediately 
besieged him with questions, and their anxiety was 
quickly allayed. 

‘‘ The canoes are safe,” said Ned, as he relighted the 
lantern. ‘‘ The tree that fell was on the other island. 
I don’t think the storm can last much longer. I be- 
lieve the wind is subsiding a little now.” 

He was about to tell them of the strange boat and 
its occupant that had passed down the channel, when 
a terrific blast checked the words on his lips. The 
tent swayed to and fro, and just at this critical mo- 
ment one of the front flaps tore free of the strings that 
held it to the pole. 

The gale instantly swept under the canvas, lifted the 
tent bodily, and whirled it through the air, leaving the 
amazed boys exposed to the driving rain. 

Ned snatched the lantern and ran down the island. 
The others followed him, and when they reached the 
buttonwood tree they saw the tent floating limply on 
the waves twenty feet beyond the canoes. 

“ We must recover it at all hazards,” cried Ned 
hoarsely. “ Our cruise is ruined if we don’t. Who 
will go with me ? ” 

“ I will,” replied Randy. 

“ And I,” added Clay. 

“ One is enough,” said Ned. “ I’ll take Randy. If 
the wind prevents us from getting back don’t you 
fellows be alarmed. Keep out of the rain as much 


AT THE MERCY OF THE TEMPEST 


159 


as possible, and if your clothes get wet put on dry 
ones.” 

There was no time to lose, for the tent had drifted 
into the fierce current below the island, and was al- 
ready out of sight. There was great danger of its 
sinking as soon as the canvas became thoroughly 
soaked. 

Hastily untying their canoes from the roots of the 
tree, Ned and Randy paddled away in the darkness, 
leaving Clay and Nugget to make the best of their 
desertion. 

It was a bad night to be on the water. The storm 
was still raging, and the surface of the creek was 
lashed with great foamy billows. The boys did not 
find the tent immediately. 

In fact the wind and the current together drove 
them a quarter of a mile down stream before they 
could control their canoes sufficiently to head them 
around. And even when they accomplished this they 
found it out of the question to return. Not one inch 
could they gain in the teeth of the blast, though they 
paddled hard and fast. 

Fortunately the canoes were empty, and this rendered 
them safe and buoyant, so that they rose lightly on 
the crest of every wave. They would surely have 
swamped had the usual loads been in the hatches. 

“We stand a poor show of getting back to the 
island this night,” cried Randy in a loud enough tone 
for his companion to hear. “ Fll be satisfied if we 
find the tent. Do you think it is still afloat ? ” 


i6o CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

With a half a dozen desperate strokes Ned then 
brought the Pioneer alongside the Water Sprite. 

“ I don’t know,” he replied. ‘‘ If the tent is still 
on the surface it must have drifted pretty near by this 
time. We^ve been trying to force our way up stream 
for nearly ten minutes. Keep a sharp lookout on your 
side, Randy, and I’ll do the same on mine.” 

This was by no means an easy matter. It was diffi- 
cult to see with any clearness at a distance of ten yards, 
and though Ned still had the lighted lantern in his 
cockpit, it was impossible to make use of it and to 
paddle at the same time. 

For a few moments longer the boys continued the 
futile struggle with the wind and current. The rain 
was still falling in torrents, but their rubber coats 
kept them fairly dry, and the canvas aprons buttoned 
tightly over the cockpits, prevented the canoes from 
filling. 

At last, when both lads were quite in despair, a flash 
of lightning revealed the tent a few yards to the left,, 
rising and falling with the waves. 

When the difficult operation of turning the canoes 
down stream was safely performed, the tent was some 
yards away. It was still dimly visible and the boys 
soon caught up with it. 

It threatened at first to be a sort of white elephant 
on their hands, for the three poles were still in po- 
sition, and the canvas was hopelessly tangled about 
them. 

Had the boys been in a boat their task would have 


AT THE MERCY OF THE TEMPEST i6i 

been comparatively easy. As it was they had to be 
very cautious for fear of upsetting. 

Finally, by getting the unwieldy mass between them 
and employing their paddles instead of hands they suc- 
ceeded in dragging a portion of it upon the fore deck 
of each canoe. The center still sagged in the water, 
but it was impossible to make any better arrangement. 

“ Paddle very carefully now,” was Ned’s caution. 

We will run into shore at the first opportunity, and 
if the storm abates one of us can go up for Clay and 
Nugget. The island can’t be more than half a mile 
away.” 

This project, simple as it sounded, was quite im- 
practicable at the present time. The wind had fallen 
some, but the waves were still so violent that the only 
safety for the heavily encumbered canoes lay in keep- 
ing parallel with the current. A flank movement 
toward shore would have brought speedy disaster. 

The boys realized this and stuck to mid-channel. 
The continued speed of the current mystified them con- 
siderably, and they were quite at a lost to account for 
it until Ned raised the lantern, and turned it on the 
surface of the creek. 

“ Good gracious ! ” he cried. The water is yellow 
with mud. The creek is rising. No wonder it runs 
like a mill race. This same storm must have deluged 
the upper end of the valley before it reached here.” 

Proof of Ned’s assertion was not wanting, for that 
instant the canoes rustled through the protruding grass 
of a submerged island. 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


162 

The water Sprite stuck fast on what was probably 
the crest, and the Pioneer instantly swung around 
with the current, shaking off the folds of the tent. 

Randy turned sideways to see how his companion 
was faring, and his fare suddenly blanched. 

‘‘Look ! look ! Ned,” he cried in a hoarse, fright- 
ened voice. “ What is that ? ” 

Randy’s alarming cry was called forth by the dis- 
covery of a long dusky object that was bearing rapidly 
down upon the canoes. 

The same chilling fear entered the hearts of both 
lads they watched its noiseless approach. They be- 
lieved it to be an upturned canoe — a message fraught 
with tidings of disaster. 


CHAPTER XIX 


'ADRIFT ON A LOG 

An instant later the shadowy object assumed the 
unmistakable form of a huge drift log, and before Ned 
could realize his peril or deal a single paddle stroke, 
the current whirled the heavy mass upon him, and the 
blunt end pounded broadside into the Pioneer. The 
canoe was bowled over like a tenpin, and Ned went 
head first into the yellow flood. He came to the sur- 
face a dozen feet below, and when he found he was 
out of his depth he made a valiant effort to swim up 
to Randy, who was fighting hard to drive the Water 
Sprite off the island, so that he might hasten to his 
friend’s rescue. 

Half a dozen strokes convinced Ned of the utter 
futility of breasting such a current. As he ceased 
struggling, and allowed himself to drift at will, he saw 
the log bearing down upon him. It had swung clear 
around after capsizing the canoe, and was shooting 
along at a rapid pace, as though to make up for lost 
time. 

With scarcely an instant’s deliberation Ned decided 
what to do. His canoe was floating toward him from 
163 


i 64 canoe boys AND CAMPFIRES 

above, but being still broadside to the current, its move- 
ments were painfully slow. 

Moreover, it offered doubtful security in its inverted 
position, and was likely to sink if any weight was put 
upon it. 

A few vigorous strokes brought Ned alongside the 
drifting log as it swung past him. He straddled it a 
little beyond the middle, holding on with both hands. 

It sank a little with his weight, causing the front 
end to tip upwards, but his head and shoulders were 
clear out of water. Turning cautiously around, he saw 
to his dismay that Randy was still aground on the 
island. 

“ Push off as soon as you can,’’ he shouted. ‘‘ Over- 
take my canoe and paddle for the left bank. I’m safe 
for the present, and will try to reach land.” 

'' All right ! ” came the reply an instant later. “ I’ll 
do my best.” 

The words had a vague, far away sound, for already 
the distance had widened considerably. The log went 
swiftly on its course, heading straight through mid- 
channel, and leaping and plunging in the turbid water. 

Ned clung to it with might and main. He was not 
a little worried by his strange and perilous position. 
The yellow flood stretching on all sides of him was a 
terrifying sight. 

The thunder and lightning had almost entirely 
ceased, and the wind had fallen, leaving the creek as 
smooth as a millpond ; but the rain still poured with a 
steady persistency that threatened a long continuance. 


ADRIFT ON A LOG 165 

Ned did not mind this much. The air and the water 
were both warm, and he felt fairly comfortable. 

He was more concerned for his companions than for 
himself. It would be a difficult matter, he reflected, 
for Randy to manage the two canoes and the tent. 

He wondered how Clay and Nugget were faring — 
whether they still remained on the island, or had ven- 
tured to embark in search of their companions, now 
that the violence of the storm was past. 

Meanwhile Ned was not oblivious to his own dan- 
ger. While these things were passing through his 
mind, he was striving to guide the log toward shore 
by paddling with his left hand and leg. At first he 
seemed to make no progress. 

The current was running swift, and the log remained 
obstinately in mid-channel. The flood was rising, too. 
Plain proof of it was seen in the debris that floated on 
all sides — patches of grass and bushes, broken limbs, 
and here and there a fence rail. 

The sky was still overcast with dark clouds, and the 
gloom behind him showed Ned no trace of Randy or 
the canoes. He worked harder and harder to gain the 
shore, and finally he discovered to his great delight 
that he was getting the log under control. 

-It steadily pursued a diagonal course, veering con- 
stantly nearer to the left shore. Occasionally a swirl 
of the current pitched it toward mid-stream, but a lit- 
tle perseverance put it right again. 

The scene of Ned's capsize was now a good mile in 
the rear, and he was satisfied that he would reach the 


i66 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


bank in a short time — unless some unforseen event 
occurred. 

This was exactly what destiny had in store for the 
lad. A moment later a sharp bend — unseen until too 
late — cast the log in the very center of the creek, and 
while the sting of this misfortune was still fresh, Ned 
heard a dull booming noise — the certain herald of 
either rapids or a dam. The sound, though not loud, 
came from no great distance. 

Its subdued tone showed that if rapids were ahead, 
they were not very bad ones; if a dam, that it could 
not be high, else the falling water would make a 
greater noise. 

But Ned had no desire to tempt his fate in 'either. 
With what strength was left in his numbed limbs he 
tried hard to drive the log shoreward. 

Had a little more time been granted him he might 
have succeeded, but the ruthless current swept him on 
with unceasing speed, and when the log was still fifty 
feet from the left bank he saw the smooth stretch of 
water before him merge into a seething line of turbu- 
lent waves and tawny foam. 

The rude outline of a mill suddenly appeared on the 
left, proving conclusively the existence of a dam. 

All hope of reaching the shore was gone now. It 
was some slight consolation to know that the dam was 
not a high one, and Ned boldly faced the ordeal by 
swinging the log around until it pointed straight to the 
line of foam. Then he hugged it closely to him and 
waited. 


ADRIFT ON A LOG 


167 

The suspense was brief. One swift rush to the 
brink, a quick slide down a glistening slant of water 
— and then a headlong plunge into the seething waves. 

The log rushed on nobly, now under the billows, 
now high on their crest until it struck a rock endwise, 
and turned broadside in the twinkling of an eye. Ned 
parted company with it then and there — he couldn’t 
help it — and struggled on alone. He was in com- 
paratively shallow water now, and though the force of 
the current and the waves was terrific, he finally 
gained a foothold on the slippery rocks, and waded 
waist deep toward shore. 

The water soon shallowed, and with a grateful heart 
he staggered out on a stony beach. 

He sat down for a moment to recover from his 
exertions, and then went up the slope to the building, 
which was only a few yards away. It proved to be a 
saw mill, and even in the somber gloom Ned could see 
that it was very ancient and rickety, and had probably 
not been in use for many years. 

The locality was a wild and lonely one. Steep 
wooded hills lay on both sides of the creek. 

Further investigation showed Ned that the saw mill 
abutted on the corner of the dam, and that a narrow 
sluiceway conducted the water to the machinery. He 
could hear the splash and gurgle of the torrent as it 
swept under the rotting timbers of the mill and rushed 
on to freedom through the wasteway beyond. 

As the depth of the latter was uncertain Ned crossed 
the sluice by a shaky plank that spanned the sides, and 


i68 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


found himself among thick bushes at the foot of a 
steep hill. He was tempted to go back and seek shelter 
in the mill, for his limbs ached with weariness, and his 
wet clothes chilled him at every step. 

But first it was important that Randy should be 
found, so he pushed along the edge of the creek in the 
rain until he obtained an open view of the channel 
for some distance ahead. 

The first glimpse rewarded him for his pains. He 
spied a bulky dark object about fifty yards up stream. 
It was approaching at a rapid pace and hugging the 
shore closely. 

Ned put two fingers in his mouth and emitted a 
shrill, piercing whistle. It was answered in a similar 
manner, and a moment later the dark mass resolved it- 
self into Randy, the tent, and the two canoes. 

“ By jove, Fm glad to see you,” exclaimed Randy in 
husky tones, as Ned helped him to land. “ I thought 
you were a goner this time, old fellow.” 

Ned hastily related his experience. 

“ It was a close shave,” he concluded ; “ too close 
to be pleasant. But how did you manage to get here 
with this heavy load ? ” 

Randy laughed. “ I had a time of it, I can tell you. 
I jumped out in the water — it was only knee deep on 
that island — and dragged the whole tent on the fore- 
deck of my canoe. Then I paddled after the Pioneer, 
iind caught up with it near another submerged bar, 
where both the canoes stuck again. 

“ This gave me a chance to right the Pioneer and 


ADRIFT ON A LOG 


169 


throw most of the water out of it. Then I slung the 
tent across both of them, tied the cockpits together, 
and started off. Of course I could only paddle on the 
right side, but I got along fairly well. The best of it 
is that I found your paddle on the way down. The 
lantern is gone, but I have a candle here, if we need 
it. It was in the pocket of my rubber coat.” 

“ That’s exactly what we do need,” replied Ned. 
“ It will help us to find some dry wood in the mill. 
But first of all we must drag the canoes and the tent 
on shore.” 

This proved a difficult task, but it was finally ac- 
complished. The canoes were turned bottom up, and 
the tent was stretched over a clump of bushes. Then 
Ned led the way down stream to the saw mill. 


CHAPTER XX 


MR. DUDE^MOXLEY, 

When the boys reached the corner of the dam Ned 
produced his waterproof match box and lighted the 
candle. This enabled them to cross the sluiceway in 
safety, and after noting with some alarm that the 
creek was still coming up rapidly, they entered the saw 
mill at the upper end, where the floor was level with 
the breast work of the dam — or rather a few feet 
above it. 

The lower end was twelve or fifteen feet higher 
than the wasteway, and was supported by an open net- 
work of huge beams. 

With the greatest caution the boys scrutinized their 
surroundings. The first floor contained nothing but 
debris — heaps of sawdust, strips of bark, and a few 
partially sawed logs. The machinery had all been re- 
moved. 

There was great danger of falling through into the 
swirling torrent beneath, for in several places the floor- 
ing lacked entire planks, and those that remained were 
loose and rotten. 

The light of the candle revealed a rickety flight of 
steps in the upper right hand corner, and without hesi- 
170 


MR. DUDE MOXLEY 


171 

tation the boys mounted to the second floor. This 
apartment was in remarkably good condition. Not a 
drop of rain had penetrated through the roof or sides. 

The floor was strewn with sawdust and shavings. 
A carpenter’s bench stood on each side, and in the cen- 
ter was a huge old-fashioned sheet iron stove, with a 
pipe running straight to the roof. The room was 
lighted by three windows — one at each end, and one 
on the side facing the creek. 

“ This is what I call luck,” exclaimed Ned. ‘‘ A 
stove ready and waiting for us, and fuel lying about 
in plenty ! We won’t have to endure our wet clothes 
long.” 

‘‘ The owner may object to our taking possession, 
though,” said Randy. “We don’t want to get in any 
more scrapes.” 

“No one but a crusty old brute would refuse to let 
us dry ourselves,” replied Ned. “ And besides, I don’t 
believe the owner lives anywhere within a mile. Hffe 
probably uses this work room in winter — when there 
is hardly any farm work to do — and doesn’t come 
near it in summer. The reason I think so is because 
the tools have all been taken away.” 

Ned’s supposition was probably correct. At all 
events the boys did not scruple to make a blazing fire 
in the stove, and very pleasant the warmth felt after 
their long tussle with the storm. 

Ned was soaked through and through in spite of 
his rubber coat, but Randy was only wet to the mid- 
dle. They stood as near as possible to the stove, and 


172 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


so powerful was the heat of the wood fire, that in 
half an hour their clothes were entirely dry. 

It was rather a risky undertaking, but both lads 
were hardy and vigorous and had no fear of taking 
cold. 

As the fire burnt itself out the pale light of day 
shone through the windows. Friday morning had 
dawned. 

Still raining a little/' said Ned, “ and the sky is 
cloudy. We must start up the creek without delay 
now. My mind will feel a good deal easier when I 
know that Clay and Nugget are safe. They must be 
feeling pretty wretched if they stayed on the island all 
night in the rain.” 

I don’t think they would venture to leave after the 
directions you gave them,” returned Randy. “ Unless 
the island became flooded. I never thought of that 
before.” 

Ned walked quickly to the side window and looked 
out. 

“ The water is still on the rise,” he said gloomily. 
“ It is backing into the wasteway and crawling up the 
slope toward the mill. You can hardly see anything 
of the dam. To tell the truth, Randy, I believe the 
creek is quite high enough to cover that island.” 

Randy turned pale. 

What has become of the boys then ? ” he asked. 
“ Could they have passed down the creek while we 
were drying ourselves ? ” 

“ Hardly,” said Ned. You forget the dam. But 


MR. DUDE MOXLEY 


173 


pull on your coat and we’ll be off. It’s not raining 
enough to hurt us.” 

Randy hastily obeyed, and after satisfying them- 
selves that the lingering embers of the fire could do 
no damage, the boys went down the shaking flight of 
steps to the lower floor. With great care they crossed 
the rotten planks, and were half way to the door 
when a burly figure darkened the threshold — a 
roughly dressed man with a gun on his shoulder and a 
partially filled grain sack in his hand. 

The boys stood still, half frightened, half aston- 
ished, but the stranger came quickly forward, lowering 
his gun as he did so. 

“ Good morning, my lads,” he said in a gruff, mock- 
ing voice, “ so the storm has driven you to my humble 
retreat. You are welcome — quite welcome. Make 
yourselves at home. This is an unexpected honor. I 
am sorry I was absent when you called.” 

The boys exchanged startled glances. There was 
an unpleasant ring to the stranger’s voice that boded 
no good intentions. 

“ If you own this mill we are much obliged to you 
for the use of it,” said Ned. “We got wet in the 
storm and came here to dry ourselves. We took the 
liberty of making a fire in the stove up stairs.” 

As he spoke he moved toward the door with Randy 
at his heels. 

“ Not so fast,” muttered the man, pushing the boys 
forcibly back. “ You can stay a while and keep me 
company. I’ve taken a fancy to you chaps, and want 


174 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


to get better acquainted with you. Over there is the 
portion of this domicile that I occupy at present. It 
ain’t very palatial, but I reckon I can give you a log 
to sit on.’’ 

There was no choice but to obey, and the boys re- 
luctantly crossed the rickety floor to the lower corner 
of the mill. Here was a great heap of sawdust, and 
two or three logs. The man sat down on the former 
— between the boys and the door — and motioned his 
companions to one of the logs. 

It was now fully daylight, and the stranger’s posi- 
tion, facing one of the broad windows on the creek 
side of the mill, gave the boys an opportunity to exam- 
ine him closely. 

He wore a dirty, greasy suit of tweed, patched 
here and there with different colored cloth. His shoes 
gaped at the toes, and his coat collar was buttoned 
tightly about his throat — no doubt in default of a 
shirt. 

His face might have been handsome at one time, 
but it was now marred and brutalized by a life of dis- 
sipation. His nose and cheeks were purple, his eyes 
bloodshot, and a matted growth of brown hair strayed 
from beneath a ragged slouch hat. 

Little wonder that Ned and Randy cowered fear- 
fully before the gaze of this evil looking ruffian. 
They knew now that he was a tramp, and never be- 
fore had they seen a worse specimen. 

It suddenly occurred to Ned that this was the same 
man who had passed the camp in a boat on the previ- 


MR. DUDE MOXLEY 


175 


ous night, and the knowledge by no means added to 
his peace of mind. 

Immediately on sitting down the stranger had taken 
a short black pipe from his pocket, and filled and 
lighted it. But during the performance of this opera- 
tion he was not oblivious to the keen scrutiny of his 
companions. 

“ I hope you chaps will know me again,” he said 
in a sarcastic tone. Or were you just admiring my 
beauty ? Dude Moxley is what my friends all call me, 
because I dress with such taste, and take such good 
care of my complexion.” 

Suddenly changing his voice he demanded gruffly. 

Where are the other two chaps ? ” 

“ Why — why — how did you know there were two 
more?” exclaimed Ned, thrown off his guard by the 
question. 

Mr. Moxley smiled complacently. ‘‘ I seen the ca- 
noes and the tent up yonder along the shore. As the 
canoes happened to be empty I judged the rest of the 
party were on behind somewhere. I just guessed at 
their bein’ two more of you, but it seems I hit it.” 

This was a very lame explanation, but the boys were 
too greatly worried to notice its defects. 

I may as well tell him all,” thought Ned. Per- 
haps he will relent and let us go.” 

Acting on this impulse he related the occurrences 
of the previous night, and described the perilous situa- 
tion of Clay and Nugget on the island. 

“ Won’t you let us go and look for our companions 


176 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

now ? ” he asked. “ If the island is flooded they are 
in great danger.” 

Ned had risen in his eagerness, and now he made a 
step toward the door. 

“Sit down!” thundered Mr. Moxley. “If you 
lads try to escape I’ll put a hole through you.” 

He lifted the gun and patted it significantly, and 
that instant Ned recognized the weapon. It was Mose 
Hocker’s property — the identical muzzleloader which 
Randy had brought up from the depths of Rudy’s 
Hole. Ned could see the silver plate set in the breech, 
and could partially read the inscription : “ John Arm- 

strong, Maker.” 

Randy was equally quick to recognize the gun. 
He gave a little gasp of astonishment and looked at 
Ned. 

The agitation of the boys was not observed by the 
ruffian. 

“ Just sit still now,” he growled. “ If you don’t 
you’ll be the worse off. You needn’t be alarmed about 
your friends. I reckon they’ll be along this way purty 
soon.” 

While speaking Mr. Moxley happened to glance 
toward the upper end of the mill, and through a gap- 
ing crevice between the boards he saw something that 
caused a sudden wave of excitement to spread over 
his face. 

Rising quickly to his feet, he seized both boys in an 
iron grasp and dragged them several yards across the 
floor to a big closet that occupied the corner of the 


MR. DUDE MOXLEY 


177 


mill. He unbolted the door and shoved his captives 
roughly inside. 

“ Don’t you dare to whimper,” he hissed savagely. 
“ Mind that, my lads. Dude Moxley ain’t to be trifled 
with.” 

The ruffian slammed the door and bolted it, and 
the next instant his heavy retreating footsteps shook 
the rotten floor. 


CHAPTER XXI 


A MYSTERIOUS WARNING 

It is quite unnecessary to give a minute account of 
how Clay and Nugget spent the night on the island. 
As the absence of their companions was more and 
more prolonged they became worried and anxious, and 
gave but little thought to their own miserable plight. 

The rubber coats shielded them from the rain, and 
by crouching under the trees they avoided the fury of 
the wind. Nugget faced the situation with remark- 
able fortitude, and uttered but few complaints. 

After the gale subsided, and the thunder and light- 
ning became less frequent, the boys made occasional 
trips to the buttonwood tree to see how the canoes 
were faring, and in this way they soon discovered that 
the creek was rising. So rapidly did the flood ad- 
vance that on the fifth visit they found the roots of the 
buttonwood submerged, and the yellow tide within a 
few inches of the trunk. 

At Clay’s suggestion the canoes were dragged out 
on the island, and all the baggage was stowed in the 
hatches. When the task was completed the canoes 
were so heavy that the boys could scarcely lift them; 

178 


A MYSTERIOUS WARNING 


179 


and little wonder, since they held just double their 
usual load. 

The water soon began to trickle over the island, and 
when it was three or four inches deep, the boys tied 
the canoes side by side to a large tree, and climbed into 
their seats. Here they sat, protected by rubber coats 
and canvas aprons until morning dawned. 

The broad yellow expanse of the creek, as it whirled 
swiftly by the island with its burden of debris and 
driftwood, satisfied Clay that the absent ones had 
found it impossible to paddle back. 

There is no use in waiting here any longer,” he 
said to Nugget. The boys may have been carried 
far down the creek, and are probably looking for us 
at this minute.” 

“ You think they are safe then? ” asked Nugget. 

“ I hope so,” replied Clay dubiously. We’ll know 
to a certainty before long. Hand me your knife till 
I cut the ropes. I tied them in a knot.” 

“ Here you are.” 

An instant later the canoes drifted off the island, 
and plunged into the swirling flood. Their heavy 
loads caused them to sink almost to the gunwales, and 
this the boys noted with serious alarm. 

“ We must keep along shore,” said Clay. If we 
upset then the danger won’t be so great.” 

With extreme caution the boys paddled diagonally 
to the left bank, where they found the current con- 
siderably less rapid. They were drifting along side by 
side when a man suddenly appeared from behind a 


i8o CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

tree a few yards ahead, and beckoned them anxiously 
with his finger. 

“ Come in here a minute, you fellows,” he whispered 
hoarsely, when the canoes were close to him. 

The hoys ceased paddling, but hesitated to obey. 

I don’t, mean any harm,” added the man. “It’s 
for your own good.” 

“I wonder what he wants,” said Clay. “ Perhaps 
it’s something about the boys. Let’s talk to him, Nug- 
get.” 

They ran the canoes into a shallow inlet where dry 
land had been but a few hours before, and the stranger 
cauie quickly toward them. His appearance was not 
calculated to cause the boys any alarm. 

He looked to be about six and twenty. He was 
poorly dressed, and his rather boyish face was covered 
with a stubbly growth of light hair. Something in his 
features seemed to wake a chord of recognition in 
Clay’s heart, and he struggled with his memory to 
account for it. 

The man came close to the canoes, and after casting 
a furtive glance up and down the shore, said in a low 
voice : 

“ You needn’t get out. I won’t keep you long. 
Where are the other two chaps that belong to your 
party ? ” 

This unexpected question amazed the boys, and they 
regarded the stranger with sudden suspicion. 

“ I don’t mean any harm to you, indeed I don’t,” he 
added. “ It’s just the other way.” 


A MYSTERIOUS WARNING i8i 

There was unmistakable sincerity in his words and 
manner, and after a brief deliberation Clay told him 
how the other boys had started after the tent, and had 
not come back. 

‘‘ I thought you wanted to tell us something about 
them,” he concluded. Did you just some up tne 
creek ? ” 

Yes,” replied the man. I was as far down as 
the next dam, but I didn’t see a sign of your friends. 
I reckon they’re below that somewheres, so you’d bet- 
ter push on and find them. I want to give you chaps 
a warning. Keep your eyes open for a big man with 
a purple face. If you run across him get out of the 
way as quick as you kin. He’s somewhere about this 
neighborhood, too, for I seen his — ” 

The man stopped abruptly, and after another cau- 
tious survey of the woods, resumed in a whisper: 

“ If you fellows do chance to get in trouble through 
this party, why mebbe I’ll be near at hand to help. 
It ain’t certain, mind, because he may easily give me 
the slip again. If I kin find him afore he gets away 
this time, it ain’t likely he will give you any trouble.” 

“ I don’t quite understand,” said Clay in a perplexed 
tone. “ Who are you, and who is this man that you 
are warning us about? Why should we be afraid 
of him?” 

The stranger shook his head. 

“ It ain’t quite the thing for me to tell,” he said 
slowly. “ You see nothin’ may come of it after all. 
Just you fellows mind what I say, and keep your eyes 


i 82 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


open. When you find your friends paddle on down 
the creek for a good way before you camp. Good-by, 
I’m off.” 

He turned abruptly away, and hurried through the 
woods toward the base of the hill. 

Clay called him two or three times, but in vain. He 
was already out of sight. 

The boys looked at each other for a moment with 
unspeakable amazement. 

“ It’s the queerest thing I ever heard of,” exclaimed 
Clay. “ I don’t pretend to understand it. The man 
was serious in all he said^ too.” 

‘‘ There was something familiar about his face,” ob- 
served Nugget. “At least I thought so when I first 
saw him.” 

“ Why, that’s just what struck me,” replied Clay 
eagerly. “ I never saw him before, but I have seen 
some one that looks like him.” 

“ That’s about the way of it,” assented Nugget. 
“ We’ll keep a sharp lookout for that purple faced 
man, anyhow.” 

“We certainly will,” replied Clay. “ Now then, 
let’s be off. The fellow won’t return again.” 

They backed out of the inlet and paddled on down 
the creek. Hardly a word was spoken. The mys- 
terious stranger’s warning had taken a deep hold upon 
both lads, and they were so deeply engrossed in puz- 
zling over it that they failed to see the dam until it 
was close to them. The falling water made but little 
noise since the breastwork was almost submerged. 


A MYSTERIOUS WARNING 


183. 

It was a weird and lonely scene that the boys gazed 
upon now — the broad yellow flood under a leaden 
sky, the gray crumbling mill looming through a pall 
of drizzling rain, and beyond, where the mists deep- 
ened, the foaming thread of the creek, visible for a 
brief stretch before it was lost among the steep, pine 
clad hills. 

“ What a desolate place ! ” exclaimed Clay. “ I 
don’t believe there is a human being within a mile. 
The boys must be farther down, and ten to one they 
shot the dam in the dark. It doesn’t look very danger- 
ous, but I hardly, think we’ll risk it. Nugget. That 
corner by the mill seems a likely place to carry 
around.” 

“ So it does,” assented Nugget. “ Come ahead, 
we’ll try it.” 

With cautious strokes they paddled on until a sud- 
den glimpse of the sluiceway leading under the mill 
caused them to pull up short. They headed straight 
for shore, and as they scrambled out at the foot of the 
hill, and pushed through the bushes, intending to see 
what the chances were for a portage, they blundered 
into the two missing canoes and the tent. 

“ Here’s luck ! ” cried Clay. “ Ned and Randy must 
be—” 

The sentence was never finished, for that instant the 
bushes rustled, parted, and a big burly man with a 
purplish red face stepped out. 

The blank amazement and fear on the faces of the 
two lads was a study for an artist. Before them was. 


jS4 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

the living verification of the mysterious warning. 
There v/as no mistaking that ruddy countenance. 

The stranger spoke first. 

“You’re just the lads I’m looking for. Your 
friends are lying in yonder mill. They went over the 
dam in their canoes this morning at daybreak. 

“ I happened to see them and saved their lives. 
They were pretty near drowned, but I managed to 
bring them around all right. They ain’t able to walk 
yet, so they asked me to go up the creek and hunt you 
fellows. Come right along and I’ll take you to them.” 

Was Mr. Dude Moxley’s brain muddled that he 
should have inserted such a gross error in his other- 
wise plausible little story? Perhaps he did not have 
time to plan it thoroughly in his hasty advance from 
the mill, or had calculated on finding his new victims 
at any other place than this. 

Frightened as the boys were they noted the dis- 
crepancy, and it opened their eyes to the seriousness 
of the situation. “ If our friends went over the dam 
this morning,” asked Clay with a touch of scorn, 
pointing to the canoes and the tent, “ how do these 
come to be here ? ” 


CHAPTER XXII 


AN INSOLENT DEMAND 

A DANGEROUS glitter in the man’s eyes showed that 
Clay’s question was not at all to his liking. 

“ How them canoes got here is none of your busi~ 
ness,” he answered emphatically, “ and I don’t want no 
argument about it. Step lively now in the direction of 
that mill.” 

The mask was off, and the boys realized that they 
were prisoners. Their captor’s sullen features and the 
gun that he bore on his shoulder forbade any attempt 
at escape. 

With sinking hearts they trudged along the shore 
a few feet in advance of the ruffian. They had no 
doubt that their companions were confined in the mill, 
and it was some consolation to know they were going 
to join them. Why they had been captured at all, and 
what object was to be gained by it was a mystery too 
deep for comprehension. 

From time to time the tramp uttered a brief order, 
and in this way he drove the boys before him, across 
the sluiceway, and then over the rickety floor of the 
mill to the lower corner. He unbolted the closet door 
and shoved them roughly in. 

185 


i86 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


It was not by any means a joyful reunion for the 
Jolly Rovers, but they were very glad to be together 
again nevertheless. A crevice in the door admitted 
some light to the closet, and at the same time afforded 
a view of Mr. Moxley, who was then sitting on the 
sawdust heap, examining the contents of his grain 
bag. 

He drew out two dead chickens, half a dozen ears 
of corn, and a quantity of apples and pears — a sure 
proof that he had secretly been plundering some 
farmer. He began to munch one of the apples, and 
the boys took advantage of the opportunity to narrate 
their adventures in low, whispered tones. 

When all had been told the mystery was no nearer 
■solution than before — in fact it was even more com- 
plex. 

“ I can’t imagine why this fellow has gone to such 
trouble and risk to capture us all,” said Ned. I 
hardly think he will do any harm. We must wait 
patiently and see what happens.” 

“ I can’t understand that warning Nugget and I re- 
ceived,” added Clay. “ I hope the man will keep his 
word and help us out of this scrape.” 

“ I wouldn’t count on that,” replied Ned; “ and yet 
there may be more in it than we suppose.” 

“ Hush ! ” whispered Randy with his eyes to the 
crevice. “ Here comes the tramp.” 

Moxley rose and approached the closet. He par- 
tially opened the door, and then walked back a few 
paces behind one of the logs. 


AN INSOLENT DEMAND 


187 


Now step out, you chaps,” he commanded sternly. 
“ I have a little business to attend to, and I want it 
done quietly.” 

The boys tremblingly obeyed, and when they were 
grouped before the door the ruffian added, “ Now go 
through your pockets and lay everything you have on 
this log. See that you don’t keep anything back.” 

It was hard to submit to this audacious robbery, but 
there was no alternative. Moxley had the gun in his 
hands. 

The boys deposited all they had about them on the 
log — watches, money, keys, fishing tackle, and hand- 
kerchiefs. The fellow made them turn every pocket 
inside out, and when he was satisfied that all were 
empty he appropriated the money, watches, and keys. 
The other articles he contemptuously rejected, and al- 
lowed the boys to take them back. 

Then he drove his prisoners into the closet and 
bolted the door — much to their surprise and con- 
sternation, for they had confidently expected to be 
turned loose. 

“ No racket now,” he growled. “ I ain’t going so 
far away but what I kin hear you. It won’t do to 
yell or kick, for the door is too strong to break, and 
there ain’t another living creature within a mile.” 

He tramped heavily across the floor and left the 
mill. 

The loss of their valuables had made the boys so 
angry and indignant that they were little inclined to 
regard the warning. They soon came to the con« 


i88 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


elusion, however, that escape was really impossible. 

The door was stoutly built, and rendered still 
stronger by heavy cross bars. The hinges and the 
bolts were massive. The combined efforts of all four 
failed to make any impression, and they soon aban- 
doned the attempt. 

“Great Csesar! I see it all now,” exclaimed Ned 
suddenly. “ That scoundrel is going to carry off our 
canoes, and leave us to get out the best way we can ! ” 

No one doubted that Ned was right. The boys 
stared at each other in speechless consternation. 

It was bad enough to lose their watches and money, 
but now they were about to be deprived of everything 
— clothes, canoes, and tent. It meant the sudden ter- 
mination of the cruise, and an ignominious return 
home. 

“ Let’s pound and kick with all our might,” sug- 
gested Clay. “ The door can’t hold out forever.” 

Before any one could reply a heavy tread was heard, 
and looking through the crevice Ned made the startling 
announcement that the ruffian had returned. 

The boys hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry 
at this piece of news. They feared a greater misfor- 
tune than the loss of all their property. 

Crowding close to the crevice — which extended up- 
ward the length of the door — they peered eagerly into 
the room. Moxley had not returned empty handed. 
He had employed his brief absence in rifling the ca- 
noes, and was laden with their entire contents, except- 
ing the dishes and the fishing rods. 


AN INSOLENT DEMAND 


189 

He deposited his burden on the sawdust and sat 
down beside it. Very slowly and attentively he ran- 
sacked the bags of clothes, the packets of provisions, 
and the little japanned tin boxes in which the boys 
kept paper and envelopes, stamps, fishing tackle, and 
various other articles. 

Then he took the empty grain sack and stuffed it 
with the clothes, and a large portion of the provisions. 
He appropriated all the stamps he could find, and 
pushed the tin boxes aside. 

Having completed his arrangements he walked over 
to the closet and opened the door. Then he sat down 
on a log facing the boys with his gun across his knee. 

“ I think I have you chaps pretty tight,” he said, 
wrinkling his face into an ugly smile. “ I have a very 
particular engagement about twenty miles from here, 
and it was my first intention to start away this morn- 
ing. But seein’ as the rain is still coming down I have 
changed my mind and will give you the pleasure of my 
company fur a few hours longer. 

“ The fact is IVe taken quite a fancy to you chaps 
— quite a decided fancy. There’s one young gentle- 
man in your party I’m ’specially anxious to see. I’ve 
had a cherished memento of him fur the last ten days, 
and it’s quite a load on my mind because I haven’t 
given him anything in return. It keeps me from 
sleepin’ sound at nights.” 

Here Mr. Moxley threw out his right leg, and turned 
the trousers up a few inches, revealing half a dozen 
red scars on his ankle. 


190 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


That’s the memento I speak of,” he said. “ It’s a 
purty one, isn’t it ? ” 

There was a breathless pause. The boys turned 
pale before the ferocious glance of the scoundrel. The 
mystery was clear as daylight now. 

Their captor was none other than Bug Batters’s 
desperate companion. From sheer love of revenge he 
must have been tracking the Jolly Rovers ever since 
that momentous night nearly two weeks previous. 

Moxley gloated over the consternation and the dread 
that were depicted on the faces of his prisoners. He 
did not speak for a moment, but gazed at the boys 
with a cruel smile that was more terrible than a mani- 
festation of anger. 

“ Well,” he said finally, “ I reckon you know who 
I am by this time. I’ll give you just five minutes to 
point out the lad who peppered me with salt. If 
you’re sensible chaps you’ll do it without hesitation. 
If you try to make a fool out of me I’ll serve you all 
the same way I intend to serve him. I’m a fair 
minded man, and don’t want to punish the innocent 
with the guilty if I kin help it.” 

The boys looked at one another without speaking. 
If Randy was a shade paler than the others it escaped 
the notice of Mr. Moxley, although he was scanning 
all the faces intently, with a view to picking out the 
guilty one by his own powers of perception. 

The allotted time is slipping away,” he said grimly. 

The right party had better speak up quick. Oh ! 
you needn’t look out of the windows. No one comes 


AN INSOLENT DEMAND 191 

near this place in the summer, and there ain’t a house 
within three quarters of a mile. I’ve got you right 
in my power, and there ain’t no hope of escape.” 

I hardly think you will get the information you 
want,” said Ned in a firm hut husky voice. “ I for 
one shan’t tell you, and I advise my friends to do 
the same. It’s not likely we would put one of our 
companions in your power after the threats you have 
made. If you wish to avoid trouble in the future 
you will be satisfied with robbing us, and will let us 
go without any worse treatment. As for the shoot- 
ing — no one was to blame but yourself. You had 
no business to attack our camp that night.” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


A DARING ATTEMPT 

Moxley’s face turned a deeper shade of purple, 
and he made a threatening step toward Ned. 

“ You’re a bold lad,” he said with a harsh laugh. 

There are not many would dare to speak to me in 
that way. But it wasn’t you who fired the gun that 
night. I can tell by your actions that you’re anxious 
to screen one of your companions. ' 

He paused a moment and then went on : '' You’ll 

find out before long that Dude Moxley ain’t to be 
trifled with. I’ll get what I want out of you obsti- 
nate pig headed chaps if it takes a week. I know 
how to bring you to terms. Back you go in that 
closet now, and there you stay until you can listen 
to reason. When you hand over the lad I want the 
rest of you can go free, and so can the other one 
for that matter — when I’m through with him. 

“ Perhaps when he finds his companions are suf- 
fering for what he did, his conscience will make him 
confess. But mark you now, if this affair ain’t 
settled by to-morrow’s dawn I’ll chop up your canoes 
and burn the tent. I’ll do more than that, too. I’ll 

192 


A DARING ATTEMPT 


193 


bind and gag you, and leave you here alone. And 
not a bite do you get to eat, either.” 

With this ultimatum Mr. Moxley rose, and bolted 
the door. Then he sat down on the sawdust, and 
sorting out some crackers and jerked beef from the 
provisions began to eat greedily. 

He was evidently quite satisfied to spend another 
night at the mill, for the rain was coming down faster 
than ever. What he had told the boys about the 
loneliness and security of the place was no idle boast, 
else he would have made haste to leave the locality 
with his plunder. 

Meanwhile a very excited discussion was being 
carried on in whispers behind the closet door. 

Randy, stricken with remorse for the troubles in 
which he had involved his companions, was resolved 
to admit the shooting. 

“ Fd sooner stand the punishment than see you fel- 
lows starving here,” he said. It will save the canoes 
and the tent, too. I don’t believe the man will dare 
to harm me. He is only trying to scare us.” 

Not a bit of it,” replied Ned stoutly. “ He’s a 
thoroughbred villain, and will certainly take some re- 
venge on you. Your resolve does you lots of credit, 
Randy, but it won’t do. You might repent it all the 
days of your life.” 

Clay and Nugget were of the same mind, and 
earnestly urged Randy to abandon his rash intention. 

“ Flelp may be nearer than we think,” said Clay. 

The man who stopped us up the creek this morning 


194 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


was certainly Bug Batters, and it looks very much to 
me as though he has been following this Moxley on 
purpose to keep him from doing us any injury. He 
may feel grateful to us, you know, because we saved 
his brother — or rather you did, Ned.” 

“ And Bug Batters knew that Moxley was in the 
vicinity,” whispered Nugget. “ That’s who he was 
looking for when we met him.” 

I have no doubt that the stranger was Bug Bat- 
ters,” said Ned, and I think he is trying to prevent 
his old companion from carrying out his revenge, as 
Clay suggests. But what has become of Bug Batters 
now ? That is the important question. I am afraid he 
has strayed off in some other direction. If he came 
near the mill he could not help finding the canoes.” 

He told us he had been down the creek just be- 
fore we met him,” remarked Clay, “ but he could not 
have been all the way to the mill, for the two canoes 
and the tent were there then, and he did not say any- 
thing about them.” 

''And when he left us he struck back toward the 
base of the hill,” added Nugget. 

" It looks very much as though he had lost the trail 
entirely,” said Ned. " He may be three or four miles 
away. It would be very foolish to count on getting 
help from him, anyhow.” 

" Then we don’t stand a ghost of a chance,” mut- 
tered Randy. You had better let me have my own 
way. I’ll throw myself on that fellow’s mercy.” 

"You won’t do anything of the kind,” said Ned 


A DARING ATTEMPT 


195 


firmly. ‘‘We won’t let you. If anything serious 
happened we would have to shoulder the blame. If 
you are really sorry for being the cause of this scrape, 
prove it by dropping your foolish project.” 

“ You take things coolly enough,” grumbled Randy. 
“ Do you want us to stay cooped up here for a week, 
and lose everything we have? Go ahead, then. I 
won’t say any more.” 

In truth Randy was glad enough to give up his 
resolve. Remorse had prompted him to make the 
offer, and he had secretly hoped that his companions 
would refuse to accept the sacrifice. 

“ I don’t intend that we shall stay here a week, or 
even a night, if I can help it,” said Ned, after a 
pause. “ I have a little plan in my head, but it won’t 
work until evening. If that fails we still have a slim 
chance left. 

“ The farmer from whom those chickens were 
stolen may stray down here in search of the thief, 
and it is not impossible that Mose Hocker is some- 
where about here. This man certainly stole that gun 
from Hocker’s cabin, and if he took the boat at the 
same time — which I believe he did — Hocker will 
surely try to recover his property, and will naturally 
look for it along the creek.” 

Ned’s reasoning — and especially his intimation of 
a plan to escape — put the boys in a more cheerful 
mood. They were all thoroughly exhausted for want 
of sleep, but that was of little consequence compared 
with the pangs of hunger and thirst they were en- 


196 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


during. They had eaten nothing since the previous 
evening, nor had a drop of water touched their lips. 
And it was now past noon. 

It was aggravating, nay, maddening, to know that 
their store of provisions was so close. Well they 
realized the futility of appealing to their merciless 
captor. 

He had said they should have no food, and they 
knew he meant it. No doubt he would deny them 
water also, and they did not venture to ask it. 

They could see the fellow plainly. He was 
sprawled in a lazy attitude on the sawdust, pulling at 
his foul black pipe. Occasionally he took a flat, 
greenish bottle from his pocket and tasted the con- 
tents with a satisfactory smack of the lips. The 
fumes of bad tobacco and whisky began to permeate 
the closet. 

So the long afternoon wore on. Moxley seemed 
quite unconcerned about his prisoners. He was well 
content to lie on the soft sawdust with his bottle and 
his pipe, secure from the pelting rain that was falling 
outside. 

Ned kept a close watch upon him, noting with sat- 
isfaction that he had frequent recourse to the bottle. 
His potations would likely induce sleep. 

It seemed to the impatient boys that night would 
never come, but at last the gray light faded from the 
crevice, and the dusk of evening deepened the shad- 
ows in the old mill. 

Before it was fairly dark Moxley lighted one of 


A DARING ATTEMPT 


• 197 


the lanterns that he had brought from the canoes 
and put it on a log. It was a bullseye, and he so 
trained it that the yellow glare shone on the sawdust 
heap. 

Perhaps he fancied it an excellent substitute for 
sunlight, which all tramps love so dearly. At all 
events he basked in it while he smoked a couple of 
pipes, and then, after several ineffectual efforts to sit 
straight, he rolled over on his back. 

A moment later heavy snores came from his parted 
lips. He was undoubtedly asleep. 

It may be imagined with what anxiety Ned had 
been watching this little scene through the crevice. 

'' The time has come,” he whispered to his com- 
panions. Moxley won’t wake in a hurry now. But 
to make sure, suppose you mount guard there, 
Randy.” 

“ What are you going to do ? ” asked Randy, as he 
crouched down on the floor. “ Break the door 
open ? ” 

“ Not much. I’ll show you in a moment.” 

The closet in which the boys were confined was 
built right against the rear end of the mill. Its di- 
mensions were ample — eight feet long and about 
four wide. Underneath was the wasteway, but its 
usual roar was now subdued by an influx of water 
from the flooded creek. 

Ned had been quietly examining the situation dur- 
ing the day, and had noted the shaky condition of the 
floor planks. He now directed Clay and Nugget to 


198 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


stand close to the door. Then kneeling down he in- 
serted both hands in a crevice between two of the 
planks and pulled with all his might. 

A ripping noise, a sharp crack — and the worm 
eaten plank came free of the beams, leaving a gap- 
ing orifice in the very center of the floor, four feet 
long by a foot and a half wide. 

Ned trembled like a leaf. 

“ Is it all right ? ” he whispered eagerly. 

“ Yes,” replied Randy. “ The rascal is sound 
asleep. He didn’t budge.” 

“ I’m glad of that.” 

The boys looked timidly down the hole, and 
crouched closer to the wall. Far below, through the 
network of crossed beams, they could see the eddy- 
ing flood. It looked immeasurably distant. 

You don’t expect us to go down there, I hope,” 
queried Clay. 

“ No, but I intend you to lower me through,” an- 
swered Ned. '' If I can reach one of those rafters 
I will be all right. It won’t be a difficult matter to 
get out on land. Then I will hurry around to the 
door, liberate you fellows, while Moxley is sleeping, 
seize his gun — and then away for freedom. 

Ned drew a long breath at the prospect. 

“ Now this is what I want you to do,” he resumed 
in a calmer tone. If the rafters are too far below 
me you must let me down to them by one of your 
coats. Brace yourselves now so you can stand the 
strain.” 


A DARING ATTEMPT 


199 ’ 


The boys obeyed and Randy stripped off his coat 
in case it should be needed. 

Then Ned lowered himself at one end of the hole, 
and swung clear down. 

He pulled himself up, and clung by his elbows. 

No good,” he whispered hoarsely. “ The nearest 
rafter is a foot below. Let me have the coat. It will 
be safer than trusting to your hands. I might drag 
you down with me.” 

The three boys braced themselves around the hole, 
and took a firm grasp of the upper part of the coat. 

“ All right,” whispered Randy. 

By a dexterous movement Ned transferred his hold 
from the planking to the more precarious support and 
slipped downward, hand over hand. An instant later 
his feet touched a broad, solid beam. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


'AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER 

The instant the tension relaxed the boys drew the 
coat up. 

“All right!” came Ned’s voice from the darkness. 
“ Put the plank back in place now and keep very 
quiet. Wait a moment,” he added quickly. “ Some- 
thing just occurred to me. I may be right and I 
may be wrong, but at all events don’t you fellows be 
scared if you hear a big splash.” 

“ We won’t,” whispered Randy. 

Then the plank was dropped noiselessly over the 
hole. 

Ned straddled the rafter — it was too dark to risk 
an upright position — and made his way to the near- 
est end, which terminated in one of the walls of ma- 
sonry that formed the sides of the sluiceway, and on 
which the mill partially rested. Then he turned 
around and crept to the other end, where he found 
the same state of affairs. 

His fears were now confirmed. The mill rose 
fairly from the two stone walls, and there was no 
way of escaping overhead, even had the other rafters 


200 


AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER 


201 


been within reach. His only chance lay in the flooded 
waterway underneath. 

Ned had more than half expected this, and was 
therefore prepared for the emergency. Without hesi- 
tation he swung from the rafter and dropped through 
eight feet of space into the turbid flood. 

He went clear under, but came to the surface 
quickly, and swam with vigorous strokes down the 
wasteway. Both the air and the water were warm, 
and he felt little discomfort. 

Between the reflex current from the creek on top, 
and the undertow from the sluiceway beneath, he was 
buffeted about considerably before he succeeded in 
emerging on the spit of land between the mill and the 
creek. He squeezed the water from his clothes as 
well as he could, and started up the slope through the 
stones and bushes. A misty drizzle of rain was still 
falling. 

He redoubled his caution as he neared the upper 
end of the mill. Creeping on hands and knees to the 
door, he peeped cautiously over the threshold. He 
was hardly prepared for what met his gaze. 

He had confidently expected to find Moxley sound 
asleep, and instead of that the fellow was sitting up- 
right with his gun across his knees, and his bottle 
in one hand. Perhaps the splash made by Ned’s drop 
into the wasteway had wakened him without arous- 
ing his supicions. He had no present intention of 
going to sleep, for he moved a little closer to the 
light of the lantern, and filled his pipe. 


202 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


For a moment Ned felt the disappointment keenly. 
He knew what a severe blow it must be to his com- 
panions. It was out of the question to rescue them 
now, for Moxley was directly between the door and 
the closet. 

Ned had been so sure of effecting his plan without 
hindrance, that it had not occurred to him what step 
to take in case of failure. But a brief consideration 
of matters raised his spirits, and he resolved to seek 
the nearest farmhouse and obtain help. 

That is a far better plan anyhow,’" he reflected 
wdth satisfaction. “ Moxley will be captured, and we 
will recover our watches and money. And we won’t 
have to start down this flooded creek in the dark, 
either. I must be quick, though, for Moxley might 
happen to open the closet and discover my absence. I 
wish there was some way of letting the boys know 
what I am going to do.” 

This was manifestly impossible, so Ned crawled 
away from the door and crossed the sluice to the foot 
of the hill. He could not withstand the temptation 
to go up the creek and have a look at the canoes. 

He found them all safely out of reach of the flood, 
for Moxley was too shrewd a man to let them go 
adrift, and perhaps cause an investigation that would 
frustrate his plans. 

As Ned was turning away his eye caught a sudden 
gleam from the cockpit of Clay’s canoe, and on mak- 
ing an investigation he was surprised to find Randy’s 
gun. Moxley must have overlooked it. 


AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER 


203 


The weapon was useless, for the ammunition had 
been carried off, but Ned shouldered it and started 
briskly down the creek. At the sluiceway he found 
a well trodden footpath, and followed it along the 
rear side of the mill, and thence by the base of the 
hill to a wagon road which began abruptly at the 
edge of the wasteway, where there was no doubt a 
fording to the opposite neck of land. 

Ned concluded that the road led to the home of the 
man who owned the mill, and he was about starting 
off in haste when his eyes fell on a boat that pro- 
truded from a clump of bushes a few yards down the 
shore. 

On going close he recognized it instantly by the 
peculiar arrangement of the seats. It was Mose 
Hocker’s boat. Moxley had carried it off when he 
stole the gun. 

‘T say, young fellow, don’t be quick with that 
shootin’ iron ; I want to talk to you.” 

The voice came from a thicket a few feet up the 
bank, and as Ned stood still with fear and amaze- 
ment, a man slipped out and stood before him. 

Ned instantly guessed the identity of the new- 
comer. 

“ You are Bug Batters? ” he asked quickly. 

‘‘ Yes, I’m Bug Batters, and I reckon you are one 
of them canoein’ chaps. I took you fur some one 
else at first — fur the man what put this boat here.” 

“You mean Dude Moxley,” said Ned. “Well, I 
can tell you where he is. In spite of your warning 


204 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


we all fell into his hands, and I’m the only one that’s 
free so far.” 

He went on with his story and quickly made the 
situation clear. 

Bug was amazed to learn how close his old com- 
panion was. 

“ It’s a purty bad fix,” he said slowly, “ but I reckon 
we can’t get your friends out of it. It’s a pity you 
have no loading fur that gun. You see, Moxley is a 
bad man and won’t listen to argument. We’ll have to 
think over the matter a little bit, and meanwhile I’ll 
tell you how I come to be here.” 

Both sat down on the boat, and Bug began his nar- 
rative. 

I’m a purty rough customer, but I’ve got a heart 
like other men, and I’m grateful to you because one 
of you saved my brother from drowning. Moxley 
was awful mad when you gave him the slip, but he 
didn’t think of going after you at first. Two or three 
days later he heard accidentally that you fellows was 
camping some place along the creek — I furget the 
name of it now — and knowin’ from this that you 
weren’t in any hurry he got into his head to go after 
you. 

I tried to talk him out of it, but it weren’t any 
use, so then I let on I was agreed to it, meanin’ all 
the time to stand by you fellows. Well, we traveled 
down the creek fur a couple of days until a rock 
knocked the bottom out of our boat and sunk it. 

Bug hesitated briefly, and then resumed in a falter- 


AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER 


205 


.ing voice : “We picked up another boat that night, 
and started off again, but I reckon Moxley must have 
suddenly got suspicious of me, for when morning 
came he gave me the slip and that was the last I seen 
of him. Knowin’ that he meant mischief, and 
knowin’ that you chaps couldn’t be far away, I fol- 
lered the creek on down. 

“ Before daylight this morning I found the boat 
here. I went up the creek then lookin’ fur Moxley, 
and that’s when I met two of your party and warned 
them.” 

“ But where have you been all day ? ” interrupted 
Ned. “We thought you had gone off in some other 
direction.” 

“ I’ll tell you where I’ve been,” muttered Bug an- 
grily. “ I had a streak of hard luck this morning. 
After I left your fellows I struck over the hill to the 
nearest farmhouse, thinkin’ Moxley might be prowlin’ 
around for something to eat. I reckon he’d been 
there before me, because the first thing I knew a big 
ugly farmer and his hired man had me fast. They 
swore I’d been stealin’ chickens an’ corn, and wouldn’t 
let me say a word. They penned me up in an out- 
building, intending to lug me to Carlisle jail in the 
morning. But I broke out about an hour ago, and 
came straight down here, and when I seen the boat 
I knew Moxley must be somewhere around yet.” 

“ That was hard luck,” said Ned, smiling at the 
recollection. “ Moxley had a whole bag of chickens, 
and corn, and fruit in the mill. The farmer thought 


206 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


you were the man that stole it. It was awfully kind 
of you to go to all this trouble and risk on our ac- 
count. There are not many men who would have 
done it.” 

You saved my brother’s life,” replied Bug dog- 
gedly. “ It takes a good deal to square a debt of 
that kind. There’s one thing I’d like to say though. 
It goes agin the grain to serve an old pal an ill turn 
— no matter how bad a man he is. I’m willing to get 
your friends free, an’ save your money, and watches, 
an’ everything else, but I ain’t goin’ to be the means 
of puttin’ Moxley in jail — if I can help it. I’m 
afraid, for one thing, because he’d hunt me down as 
soon as he got out.” 

Well, I’ll leave the whole affair in your hands 
then,” replied Ned. “ I was just on my way to the 
farmhouse when you stopped me. What do you think 
we had better do? Wait for Moxley to go to sleep 
again, or try to capture him with this empty gun ? ” 
Before Bug could open his lips to reply a slight 
noise was heard in the bushes, and three men suddenly 
appeared on the other side of the boat. 

'' We have you at last, you scoundrel,” cried a 
harsh voice. 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE SIEGE BEGINS 

The unexpected appearance of the three strangers 
stupefied Ned, but Bug turned like a flash and started 
to run. Two of the men instantly overhauled him 
and threw him roughly to the ground, while a third 
hastily opened the slide of a dark lantern that was 
strapped to his waist and cast a flood of light upon 
the scene. 

Ned uttered a gasp of amazement. The man with 
the lantern was Mose Hocker. 

The recognition was mutual. 

“ You here ! ’’ cried Hocker in a pained voice. “ I 
didn’t expect this. Is it possible that you lads came 
down to my cabin and stole the gun and the boat? I 
wouldn’t have believed it of you without the evidence 
of my own eyes.” 

“ And this here’s the same feller I had locked up 
in the smoke house,” exclaimed one of Bug’s captors. 
“ I’ll bet he don’t steal any more chickens for a while.” 

Ned stood pale and agitated before his accuser — 
quite at a loss for words to explain. 

“ I’m sorry for you,” resumed Hocker, “ but I 
207 


2o8 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


must do my duty an’ hand you over to constable 
Jeffries. Where are the rest of your party?” 

The words came with a rush now as Ned eagerly 
denied his guilt and explained away the incriminat- 
ing circumstances. 

Then, while the others clustered about him, he 
commenced the story at the beginning, and went 
through with it thread by thread. 

His excitement caused him to speak a little inar- 
ticulately; and he missed a fev/ details, but by adroit 
cross questioning his hearers obtained a clear under- 
standing of the whole situation — starting with the 
rescue of Bug’s brother and ending with the events 
that had recently transpired at the mill. 

Ned was so anxious to procure Bug’s release that 
he quite forgot his suspicions of a few moments be- 
fore — namely, that Bug was equally guilty with 
Moxley of the theft of the boat and the gun. 

“ Won’t you let him go?” he pleaded. “ It’s all a 
mistake. He had nothing to do with stealing those 
things from the farmer. He was doing all he could 
to help us.” 

But Hocker had formed his own opinion after , hear- 
ing Ned’s story, and so had constable Jeffries and 
Mr. Zinn, the farmer. 

“ I’m mighty glad to know you lads ain’t guilty,” 
said Hocker, “ and I ax your pardon for my wrong 
suspicion. As for this fellow, I ain’t so sure about 
him. I don’t doubt that he’s really been trying to 
get you chaps out of a scrape though, and I promise 


THE SIEGE BEGINS 


209 


you he’ll get full credit for it. Meanwhile we’d better 
make sure of him — just as a matter of form, you 
know.” 

He nodded to Jeffries and the latter slipped a pair 
of bracelets on Bug’s wrists. 

Ned was surprised and indignant. He saw no 
reason for such a step. 

Don’t be worried, lad,” remarked Hocker sooth- 
ingly. ‘‘ He may be turned loose later on. You see 
I can’t afford to let the guilty parties escape after 
the hard chase they’ve given me. Why, Jeffries and 
I have been scourin’ all along the creek in a buggy. 
We happened to strike Zinn’s farm this evening, and 
stopped fur information. Zinn told us he had a man 
locked up in the smoke house, but when we went to 
look the fellow was gone. 

“ I suspected it was the party I wanted, an’ knowin’ 
that in that case the boat couldn’t be far away, we 
hurried down to the creek. And it’s well we did for 
your sake as well as mine. The next thing is to 
rescue the lads and capture the rascal. We had bet- 
ter be quick or he will take alarm and leave the mill.” 

“ Moxley is the fellow’s name, is it ? ” said the 
farmer. “ It has a kind of familiar ring to my ears.” 

“ I know the man,” spoke up Jeffries. “ Dude 
Moxley he goes by, but that ain’t his real name. He 
comes from a good family up the valley, and was well 
educated when a lad. Drink ruined him, and now 
he’s one of the greatest scamps unhung. I know 
this other chap, too,” added the constable. “ His 


210 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


folks are sober, respectable people over at the Gap, 
but he ain’t much better than Moxley. We’ve met 
more than once before. How is it, my man ? ” 

Bug hung his head but said nothing. 

The scene was inexpressibly painful to Ned, and 
he was greatly relieved when the conversation turned 
on the rescue of his companions. He little dreamed 
that the most exciting incidents of this already event- 
ful night were yet to come. 

“ We had better cross to the neck of land in your 
boat, Hocker, “ suggested Zinn. “ The plank over 
that sluiceway makes a lot of racket, and the scoundrel 
may hear us and slip away.” 

This happy idea was carried out. The entire party 
embarked, and landed a moment later about ten yards 
below the mill. The rain had ceased some time be- 
fore, and the moon was now peeping through a rift 
in the scudding clouds. 

As the men crept up the stony slope they saw 
through the gaping crevices of the mill the yellow 
gleam from Moxley’s lantern. Suddenly it vanished, 
and a creaking noise was hear. 

“ The rascal is escaping. We must run for it,” 
whispered Hocker. He bounded forward with Jef- 
fries at his heels. Zinn fell behind, leaving Bug in 
charge. 

The men swiftly turned the upper corner of the 
mill just as the door was slammed and bolted in their 
faces. Hocker began to kick savagely and wrench 
the handle. 


THE SIEGE BEGINS 


2II 


That won’t do any good,” exclaimed Zinn, as he 
reached the spot. “ I made a strong job of that door, 
and it will take more than a little to break it down. 
There are plenty of other places that can be forced 
in.” 

A brief pause followed, and then a sullen voice 
issued from behind the door. 

I’ll put a hole through the first man that tries to 
enter this mill. I mean what I say. Dude Moxley 
ain’t to be trifled with.” 

The men hastily withdrew, first taking the pre- 
caution to remove the plank that covered the sluice- 
way. 

“ The rascal must have seen us coming up the slope 
in the moonlight,” muttered Hocker. I suppose he 
thought we had the place surrounded and every ave- 
nue of escape cut off. He’s a desperate fellow, and 
may stand a long siege.” 

In truth Moxley seemed to be preparing for that 
very thing. He boldly drew in the shutters of the 
two windows that the faced the creek, and a moment 
later he began to roll logs about, evidently fortifying 
the weak places in the wall. 

“ That may be only a ruse,” said Jeffries. “ Is 
there any way of escape from the other side ? ” 

“ Of course there is,” exclaimed the farmer. “ He 
can easily drop from the second story window to the 
foot of the hill. Lend me that empty gun,” he added, 
turning to Ned. “ I’ll cross the wasteway in the 
boat and get behind the trees a few yards up the hill. 


212 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


If the rascal attempts to crawl out the window I’ll 
scare him back.” 

Ned handed over the gun, and the farmer de- 
parted in haste. Hocker and Jeffries moved aside 
and carried on a whispered conversation. 

Bug was left to his own devices. He could not 
escape, for the removal of the plank from the sluice- 
way made the place literally an island. He sat down 
on a big stone, with his manacled hands resting on his 
knees. Ned was restless and heartsick, and the pro- 
longed suspense grew more intolerable every mo- 
ment. He was afraid that Moxley would vent his 
anger on the boys, and perhaps do them an injury. 

Hocker divined the lad’s thoughts. 

“ Don’t be downhearted,” he said. Your friends 
are safe enough. The scoundrel won’t dare to hurt 
them. By and by, if the siege threatens to last, we’ll 
find a way to get them out of the mill.” 

“ I hope you will succeed,” said Ned. “ It’s hard 
to tell what that ruffian will do. And none of us 
have had anything to eat since last evening at sup- 
per time.” 

Hocker was thunderstruck on hearing this, and 
hastily produced a double handful of crackers from 
the capacious pocket of his coat. 

‘‘ That will take the edge off your hunger,” he said. 
'' I bought them at a country store as we drove by 
this morning. When Zinn’s hired man comes down 
to see where his master is — as he surely will before 
long — I’ll send him back for food. If we can’t get 


THE SIEGE BEGINS 


213 


your friends out of the mill we can at least send 
them something to eat through that loose board. By 
means of the boat one of us can climb into the 
rafters.” 

This plan seemed feasible, and Ned felt no com- 
punctions about eating the crackers. Nothing had 
ever tasted so good to him before. 

Meanwhile Hocker and Jeffries had been quietly 
holding another consultation, and now the latter ad- 
vanced to the side of the mill. 

Moxley,” he called in a loud voice, “ if you 
know what’s best for you, you will quietly hand out 
that gun, and deliver yourself up. The more trouble 
you give us, the harder it will be for you in the end. 
You can’t possibly escape, and your capture is only 
a question of time. We are well armed, and won’t 
stand any fooling. Come out now and we’ll make it 
as easy for you as possible.” 

There was a brief pause, and then creaking foot- 
steps were heart as Moxley approached the wall. 

“ You can talk all night,” he shouted hoarsely, “ but 
it won’t do any good. Don’t you come too close, Bill 
Jeffries, or I might draw a bead on you. We have 
more than one old score to settle. As for getting 
me out of here, you and ten like you can’t do it. I 
have plenty of ammunition and plenty to eat, and this 
place will hold me as long as I want to stay. You 
can’t take me inside of a week. I have four prison- 
ers in here, and not a mouthful of food will they get, 
not a sup of water, as long as you fellows are prowl- 


214 


ANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


ing around. I mean what I say, Jeffries, and you 
know it. For your own good I warn you to get out 
of this, ril shoot the first man that enters the mill.’^ 
To enforce this hostile declaration Moxley thrust 
the muzzle of his gun through a crevice, and Jeffries 
hastily retreated. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


bug’s proposition 

There was dead silence for a while. It was only 
too evident that Moxley meant what he said, and 
though Jeffries and Hocker were brave men, they 
were reluctant to engage in a struggle with all the 
odds against them. 

Accompanied by Ned and Bug they moved down 
to the edge of the water — a distance of less than 
thirty feet in the present condition of the creek — and 
ensconced themselves in some thick bushes. There 
was no slight risk that Moxley would shoot through 
the crevices if the moonlight afforded him a tempting 
chance. 

‘‘If we can wait in patience the game will fall into 
our hands,” said Jeffries. “ The rascal has been 
drinking, and the fiery stuff has given him false cour- 
age. After a while he will either fall asleep or be- 
come helpless from intoxication.” 

“ I wonder if the boys know that help is outside,” 
remarked Ned, “ I wish I could get a few words 
with them.” 

“ Of course they know it,” replied Hocker. “ They 
heard every word that was said, and they have too 

215 


2i6 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


much sense to make any outcry. We’ll get them out 
of the scrape before long, never fear.” 

Just then the farmer’s shrill voice rang out dis- 
tinctly from the hillside behind the mill : 

“ Keep back, you rascal. If you crawl out that 
window I’ll drop you quick as a wink.” 

Moxley is trying to escape from the second floor,” 
muttered Hocker. “ Wait a moment. I’ll be back 
right away.” 

He crept down the shore of the creek, and crossed 
the slope to the wasteway. 

“Is it all right, Zinn?” he called out. 

“ Yes,” came the reply. “ The rascal stuck his 
ugly head out of the winder a moment ago, but I 
scared him back. He can’t escape on this side.” 

Hocker was about to rejoin his companions when 
a dark figure came down the road and passed through 
a strip of moonlight which served to reveal his iden- 
tity. It was Abner Peck, the farm hand. 

In response to a whispered command from Hocker 
the man jumped into the boat and pulled hastily across 
the wasteway. Hocker briefly explained the situa- 
tion, and after a little further conversation Abner 
recrossed to the main land, while Hocker hurried 
back to his companions and related what had oc- 
curred. 

“ I sent him up to the house for provisions and a 
rope,” he concluded, “ and when he returns we’ll try 
to get the lads out of the closet.” 

This piece of news cheered Ned considerably, and 


BUG’S PROPOSITION 


217 


helped him to endure the suspense with fortitude. 
Nearly an hour passed by without a sound from the 
mill or the alert watcher on the hillside. 

The creek was still rising by slow degrees, but the 
sky was rapidly clearing and gave every promise of 
continued fair weather. 

Finally a low whistle was heard, and Hocker noise- 
lessly disappeared. He returned in less than five 
minutes, and announced that Abner was waiting with 
the provisions and the rope. 

“ Now I have an idea for working this little 
scheme,” he added. “ Jeffries, you go to the other 
end of the mill and open a conversation with Mox- 
ley — let on you want to reason with him some more. 
Keep him talking as long as you can, and meanwhile 
me and this lad will slip up the wasteway in the boat 
and try to get the lads free. If anything goes wrong, 
whistle.” 

Jeffries was quite satisfied to take the part assigned 
to him. He moved off in one direction, while Hocker 
and Ned took the other. Bug was left alone in the 
bushes. 

Jeffries was already in conversation with Moxley 
when his companions reached the wasteway. They 
could hear the voices of the two men indistinctly. 

Hocker motioned Ned to the rear seat beside Ab- 
ner; then seizing the oars he pulled the boat swiftly 
into the deep shadows under the mill. The next step 
was a more difficult one. 

Bidding Abner take the oars, and keep the boat in 


2I8 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


the same position if possible, he tossed the rope over 
the very beam to which Ned had descended, and 
catching the end, tied it to the main part of the rope 
in such a way as to form a sort of swinging loop, 
which could not slip. By standing on the seat he 
managed to get one foot in this loop; then clutching 
both parts of the rope he drew himself quickly up, 
and after swaying to and fro for an instant, threw 
one arm over the rafter. An instant later he was 
straddling it, and pulling the rope after him he un- 
tied the loop. 

Now, lad,” he whispered, “ call your companions. 
They won’t know my voice.” 

But this was rendered unnecessary by a sudden 
rasping noise above, as the loose plank was carefully 
lifted from its place. 

“ Randy ! Randy ! ” whispered Ned. ** It’s all 
right. We’re going to rescue you.” 

A glad murmur of voices was heard, and Randy 
incautiously replied : Hurry up then. Now’s your 

time, for Moxley is at the other end of the mill talk- 
ing.” 

‘‘ Not so loud, lad,” whispered Hocker. '' Hold 
steady now and look out for the rope end.” 

But before Hocker could throw it footsteps came 
hastily over the floor above, and then a loud shrill 
whistle was heard — Jeffries’s signal. 

An instant of breathless suspense was followed by 
the sudden thrusting of a shiny object through a hole 
in the floor a little to one side of the closet. 


BUG’S PROPOSITION 


219 


“No you don’t/’ cried Moxley in a savage voice. 
“ You can’t play that game on me. Get out of that 
at once, or I’ll riddle you with buckshot. In ten 
seconds I shoot.” 

It was not a time to hesitate or parley. The plank 
dropped into place, and by a reckless swing and drop 
Hocker landed fairly in the center of the boat, very 
nearly capsizing it. Abner dropped the oars, and the 
current whirled the craft swiftly down the wasteway. 

It was a bitter disappointment, especially to Ned. 
Jeffries hastened to the spot as the party landed. 

“ I’m awful sorry,” he said, “ but it couldn’t be 
helped. The rascal must have heard some noise you 
made.” 

“ It’s hard luck, that’s a fact,” muttered Hocker. 
“ I’ll square accounts with that scoundrel afore I’m 
many hours older. The idea of his threatenin’ to 
shoot me with my own gun ; that’s what riles me most. 
It’s a pity we didn’t get the food up. The boys’ll 
have to starve a little longer, I reckon.” 

“ It will be only a little, too,” replied Jeffries 
grimly. “ I don’t intend to stand any more nonsense. 
We’ll think over the matter and decide on some kind 
of a move. Moxley has got to come out of that mill. 
That settles it.” 

The party went slowly back to the bushes, and Ned 
satisfied his hunger with the bread and cold meat 
Abner had brought, while Jeffries and Hocker car- 
ried on a low, earnest discussion. 

Presently the quiet was interrupted in an unex- 


220 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


pected manner. Being restless and unhappy Bug 
wandered up toward the mill, and unwittingly strayed 
intp a patch of silvery moonlight. 

Moxley must have been on the watch, and the sight 
of his old chum put him into a fury. He was ig- 
norant of Ned’s escape, and naturally attributed his 
misfortunes to Bug. 

You black hearted dog,’’ he cried savagely. ‘‘ I’ll 
get square with you. If I go to jail you’ll go with 
me. It was all your fault anyhow. You persuaded 
me to go after these boys, and it was you who broke 
into the cabin and stole the gun and boat. I tried 
to keep you from it, but you wouldn’t listen. 

'' Oh, you’ll pay up for your treachery. I’ll swear 
to all these things — and . a good many more — in 
court. That is if I get there — which ain’t at all 
likely. And if I do get out of this hole I’ll hunt you 
down, if it takes a year.” 

Moxley ’s rage was so violent that Bug prudently 
retreated to the bushes. 

The ruffian kept up his abuse and called Bug all 
manner of vile names until he was compelled to stop 
for sheer want of breath. 

Bug came down to Hocker and Jeffries and stood 
before them. 

“ Look here,” he said hoarsely, what that rascal 
says ain’t true — at least the most of it ain’t. What 
part I had in stealin’ the boat I’ve made amends fur 
already, and now I’m willing to do a good deal more. 
A little while ago I felt kinder sorry for Moxley be- 


BUG’S PROPOSITION 


221 


cause me an’ him has been together a good part of 
the summer. But when a man goes back on an old 
friend, an’ calls him bad names, an’ tries to get him 
into trouble by lyin’, then I’m done with that man fur 
good. 

“ I’d sooner see him in jail now than runnin’ loose, 
an’ if you give me a fair show an’ take these irons 
off. I’ll find a way to get into that mill and capture 
the mean rascal. He’s more’n half drunk now, and 
I’m a good deal stronger than I look. When the 
chance comes I’ll know how to use it. I’m talkin’ on 
my honor now, an’ mean what I say. You needn’t 
be afraid to turn me loose. I can’t escape if I’d want 
to. You know that.” , 


I 


CHAPTER XXVII 


THE BURNING OF THE MILL 

There was no mistaking the sincerity of Bug^s 
proposal, and coming, as it did, at a time when 
Hocker and Jeffries were unable to decide on any 
feasible plan of action, they were disposed to give 
a favorable answer. 

It ain’t a bad idea,’’ said Jeffries. “ But how do 
you expect to get in without being seen ? ” 

I’ll find a way,” returned Bug. “ There air 
plenty of holes an’ loose boards.” 

“ An’ Moxley is watchin’ them all, too,” remarked 
Hocker. ‘‘ Your plan ain’t very definite so far.” 

Bug hesitated, and before he could reply something 
occurred that totally changed the situation. 

I see you again, you rascal,” came the farmer’s 
voice from the hillside. ‘‘ You can’t fool me. Get 
away from that winder now.” 

Hocker and Jeffries exchanged glances of mutual 
understanding. The latter quickly unlocked the 
bracelets and freed Bug’s wrists. 

Now’s your chance,” he whispered. “ Moxley is 
on the second floor. Slip in before he comes down. 
There’s a loose board just below that middle window. 


222 


THE BURNING OF THE MILL 


223 


There ain’t time for more than one to get in or we’d 
follow you. When you need us sing out. Here, 
take this.” 

He pressed a pistol into Bug’s hand, and the latter 
bounded noiselessly up the slope. He reached the mill, 
drew the lower end of a loose plank a foot from its 
place, and vanished through the orifice. 

Let us follow Bug on his perilous quest. Not until 
he was fairly inside, and crawling on hands and knees 
over the rickety floor, did he realize the great danger 
that lay in what he had undertaken to do. For an 
instant he trembled with fear, and then the memory 
of his wrongs steeled his heart and nerves. 

A sudden noise overheard caused him to crouch 
midway on the floor. A moment later the stairway 
creaked, and Moxley began to descend. His progress 
could be noted as he passed the crevices in the 
wall. 

Bug lay motionless, wondering what he should do 
next. The possibility of being discovered made him 
tremble violently. He quite forgot that he had a 
pistol. 

Moxley had now reached the floor, and with cau- 
tious steps he moved along the wall toward the lower 
corner. 

Suddenly there was a sound of a heavy fall, fol- 
lowed by a volley of profanity, and the next instant 
something flew against the wall, and was shivered to 
fragments that fell with a tinkling noise. 

“ He’s tipped over a bottle,” thought Bug, and 


224 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


now he’s smashed it because he’s mad. That’s like 
Moxley.” 

This haphazard guess was absolutely correct. All 
was silent for a second or two after the glass had 
fallen; then Moxley grumbled in an audible tone: 

Confound the luck ! I hope that wasn’t my whisky 
bottle. It ain’t in my pocket.” 

Of such dire import did the question seem to the 
ruffian that he ventured to strike a match — little 
dreaming what the impulse would cost him. 

Bug’s heart beat wildly when he heard the crack 
and saw the light flash through the darkness. He 
jammed the pistol into his pocket and rose on his 
hands and knees. 

Moxley was standing before the sawdust heap with 
his face to the wall. As the match flared up he 
dropped the gun and seized a greenish bottle that was 
lying at his feet. 

Here’s luck! ” he muttered contentedly. It was 
the oil bottle I brought from the canoes that got in 
my way.” 

He lifted the fiery poison to his lips, still holding 
the burning match between the fingers of his other 
hand, and remained in this attitude for a brief mo- 
ment. 

Bug stood erect and moved across the floor with 
the caution of a creeping tigress. Nearer and nearer 
he came, and when less than four feet separated him 
from his intended victim, Moxley heard some slight 
noise and wheeled around. 


THE BURNING OF THE MILL 


225 


Bug was on him with one spring, and down they 
fell with a great crash, and rolled in furious strife over 
the shaking floor — Bug crying for help at the top of 
his voice, Moxley uttering hoarse threats and impre- 
cations. 

Blinded with rage they did not observe that the 
burning end of the match had fallen on the very spot 
where the widely scattered kerosene oil was most 
plentiful. Even when the hissing blue flames spurted 
up and licked the rubbish on all sides with greedy 
tongues, they fought on desperately, now one upper- 
most, now the other, as they verged toward the center 
of the floor. 

When Hocker and Jeffries burst into the mill, 
followed by Ned and Abner, the conflagration was be- 
yond control. The flames were devouring the plank- 
ing of the wall with a great roaring and crackling, 
spreading on each side and to the floor above. 

The scene was one long to be remembered. The 
cries of the struggling men on the floor mingled with 
the furious kicking and shouting that came from the 
imprisoned boys in the closet, and amid all the din and 
confusion the farmer rushed down from the hillside 
and battered his way into the mill with the butt end 
of his gun. 

Fright gave Moxley the strength of a madman, and 
by a determined effort he tore loose from his plucky 
assailant, and springing to his feet started to run. 
He struck Hocker, who jumped in front of him, a 
furious blow that sent him reeling backward, but 


226 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


before he could make use of his advantage, he tripped 
on a log, and came down heavily. 

As he partially rose Bug leaped upon him, and both 
men rolled over to the edge of a gaping hole in the 
floor. They struggled an instant on the brink, and 
then fell through, landing with a terrific splash in 
the flooded wasteway far below. 

Hocker and Jeffries rushed precipitately from the 
mill to head them off, while the farmer insanely at- 
tempted to check the conflagration by tramping 
through the debris that was burning here and there 
on the floor. 

The whole affair had taken place in a very few 
seconds, and Ned was at first so dazed by the con- 
fusion and the flames that he was quite incapable of 
doing anything. The terrified cries of his companions 
roused him from his stupor, and he dashed through 
the intense heat to the closet door. 

A quick jerk threw the bolt open, and the fright- 
ened boys poured out. The lurid glare of the flames 
and the spark laden volumes of smoke were more 
than they could stand. One and all bolted for the 
nearest aperture in the creek side of the mill, and 
fortunately reached it without falling through the 
gaps in the floor. 

Ned would gladly have followed their example, 
but he suddenly bethought him of the plunder Moxley 
had packed up to carry away. Such a loss would 
be irreparable, and without hesitation he dashed to- 
ward the burning wall.' 


THE BURNING OF THE MILL 


227 


The heat was intense, but he managed to get near 
enough to snatch the bag. One end was badly 
scorched. He suddenly spied Hocker’s gun, and 
knowing how the owner valued it, he made another 
rush and carried it olf in triumph. 

Thus laden down he tottered across the floor in im- 
minent fear of dropping through to the wasteway, 
and overwhelmed at times by the suffocating smoke 
and fiery sparks. When his courage and endurance 
were all but spent he reached a broken place in the 
wall and staggered into the refreshing outer air. How 
good it seemed ! 

Abner had long since preceded him, and the farmer 
made his appearance a moment later, still grasping 
Randy’s blackened gun. The boys had been waiting 
on Ned in terrible suspense, afraid to venture back 
into the mill, and when he appeared with his burden 
their joy knew no bounds. 

They were ignorant of the disaster that had be- 
fallen Bug and Moxley, and when Ned told them, the 
whole party started off on a run. 

They searched the wasteway just as Jeffries and 
Hocker landed from the boat, pushing Moxley before 
them, and followed by Bug. The ruffian’s hands 
were already manacled. With the exception of drip- 
ping clothes neither of the men seemed the worse for 
their struggle and subsequent fall. 

They were still locked together when we pulled 
them from the water,” said Jeffries. That little 
fellow is a plucky one. He deserves great credit for 


228 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


raising the siege. We’ve got our man at last, and 
bitterly he’ll rue this night’s work.” 

It’s a bad job fur me, too,” observed the farmer. 
“ The old mill will soon be a heap of ashes. It’s in- 
sured fur about what the lumber’s worth, but that 
ain’t much consolation. I hate to see it go after 
standin’ here fur nigh onto seventy years.” 

'' It’s hard,” muttered Hocker, “that’s a fact.” 

Then all were silent, watching the flames as they 
rose higher and higher, and licked every corner of 
the doomed building. It was a grand sight while it 
lasted, but in twenty minutes nothing was left save a 
few blackened beams and smoldering heaps of ashes. 

“ That ends the fireworks,” said Jeffries. “ We may 
as well be moving along. It’s past two o’clock in the 
morning.” 

He drew a second pair of handcuffs from his 
pocket, and to Ned’s wrath and indignation, clapped 
them suddenly on Bug’s wrists. 



BUG WAS ON HIM WITH ONE SPRING 
Canoe Boys and Camp-Fires 



CHAPTER XXVIII 


A GOOD DEED 

Ned was the only one who showed any surprise at 
the constable’s action, and quite naturally, since he 
alone was acquainted with all the facts in the case. 
Hocker had already taken Moxley to the boat and 
seated him; the ruffian had lost his defiant manner, 
and was cowed and sullen. Jeffries now started to 
follow with Bug, but was stopped by a detaining 
touch on the arm. 

I beg your pardon, Mr. Jeffries,” said Ned, try- 
ing hard to control his feelings, ‘‘ but you surely don’t 
intend to carry off Bug to jail after all he has done 
to-night? We owe everything to him.” 

Jeffries looked at the lad half sternly. 

“ Law is law,” he replied in a pompous tone. “ I 
am an officer of justice, and must do my duty. This 
fellow was clearly concerned in the theft of Hocker’s 
gun and boat, and what he did before or after that 
don’t wipe out the crime. Why, if I’d turn him loose 
now I’d be compoundin’ a felony. Of course I’ll 
speak a good word for him when he comes up for 
trial — I’ll promise you that — and it may lessen his 
sentence.” 


229 


230 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


Jeffries is right,” said the farmer. ** If a man 
will commit crimes he must suffer for them. Both 
fellows air guilty, no doubt.” 

Bug threw a grateful glance at Ned, and then 
turned appealingly to Hocker. 

“ I don’t deny that I was with Moxley when he 
broke into your cabin,” he said huskily, “ but I was 
only with him because I wanted to help these boys. 
I couldn’t leave him without spoilin’ my plans, and I 
couldn’t persuade him to let the cabin alone, though 
I tried hard enough. He gave me the slip next morn- 
ing, as it was, an’ I had to tramp it down the creek 
the rest of the way. It’s purty hard fer a feller 
to get into a scrape like this under them circum- 
stances.” 

Mocker’s face wore a perplexed expression as he 
replied slowly: 

“ I’m sure I don’t know what to say. Jeffries has 
the law at his finger ends, and it ain’t fur me to 
contradict him. I reckon things will have to take 
their course.” 

Bug’s hopeless looks and attitude went straight to 
Ned’s heart, and he resolved to make a final appeal 
in his behalf. He was satisfied that Hocker would 
help him if he could be made to see the matter in its 
proper light, so he drew him aside and told all he 
knew about Bug in a simple, earnest way — dwelling 
especially on the fact that Bug’s desire to keep the 
boys out of a scrape was the sole cause of his own 
misfortune. 


A GOOD DEED 


231 


The appeal carried conviction with it, and Hocker’s 
sympathies were aroused. 

“ I reckon I can fix this matter,” he said after a 
little consideration. I owe you lads something any- 
how, and this is a good time to pay the debt.” 

Hocker was as good as his word. He walked over 
to the boat and surprised Jeffries by saying in a grave 
tone, “ Look here, old man ; I’ve sorter veered round 
on this thing. Now that I’ve got Moxley safe and 
sound I don’t intend to prosecute the other chap. I 
reckon what he says is true, an’ you know yourself 
what he did fur us to-night — more than you or me 
would have done. He deserves to go free.” 

Well, if you’re determined not to make a charge,, 
why that settles it,” replied Jeffries a little stiffly. “ I 
have nothing agin him personally, and I hope he’ll 
take warning by this affair and keep out of bad com- 
pany.” 

He turned around and quickly removed Bug’s hand- 
cuffs. 

“ You’re a free man now,” he said. '' See that you 
stay free and justify the clemency of the law by 
leadin’ a respectable life in future.” 

Bug was dazed at first by the unexpected transition 
from despair to hope. He stammered out a few in- 
articulate words of gratitude to Hocker and Jeffries 
and then approached Ned. 

“ This is your doin’,” he said brokenly. “ You 
saved me from goin’ to jail. I shan’t forget it — 
He choked and broke off short. 


232 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


Ned drew him down the wasteway to a little clump 
of bushes, out of earshot of the others. 

“ Bug,’' he said earnestly, '' if you are really grate- 
ful to me for saving you from a term in prison. I’ll 
tell you how you can prove it. Your brother told 
me the whole story of your life, and what a shadow 
it has cast on your home. You are breaking your 
mother’s heart, and even your father feels the dis- 
grace keenly, and would welcome you back if you 
came prepared to lead a different life. Go home, 
Bug, and make them all happy. You will never re- 
gret it if you do. You are not bad at heart, I know, 
and evil company has been the cause of all your 
trouble. Let Moxley’s fate be a warning to you. 
Turn over a new leaf from to-night. Will you do it, 
Bug? Will you go straight home and lead an honest, 
respectable life ? ” 

Tears were standing in Bug’s eyes, and he brushed 
them away with his coat sleeve. 

“ ril do it,” he said in a firm, but husky voice. 
“ I’ve been wantin’ to go home fur a long time, but 
I didn’t dare to. I’m sick enough of livin’ in this 
way, an’ what you’ve done an’ said to-night will make 
a different man of me. I mean it all, and I’ll stick 
to it. I’ll do no more lyin’ or stealin’, and I’ll keep 
away from bad company. I’ll 'stay at home and work. 
Here’s my fist on it.” 

Ned warmly shook the proffered hand, and then 
both went slowly back to the boat. 

Bug’s appearance was the signal for a most out- 


A GOOD DEED 


233 * 


rageous burst of profanity and threats from Moxley^ 
and when Jeffries had finally subdued the ruffian by 
strong measures, the whole party crossed the waste- 
way, and moved up to the farmhouse, which was half 
a mile distant. 

Mrs. Zinn spread a huge table with all sorts of 
tempting food, and the starved boys attacked it with 
a vigor that made her open her eyes in amazement. 
The others were almost as hungry after all they had 
gone through that night, and did ample justice to the 
viands. Moxley’s bracelets were taken off and he 
was allowed to eat his fill with the rest. 

It was four o’clock on Saturday morning before the 
tired crowd got to sleep. The four boys were given a 
room containing two large beds, and the adjoining 
apartment was occupied by Hocker and Jeffries, and 
their prisoner. Bug was accommodated with a cush- 
ioned settee in the kitchen. 

The boys woke up, refreshed in mind and body, 
about three o’clock in the afternoon. They came 
down stairs just in time to see Hocker and Jeffries 
drive away in a buggy with the sullen faced prisoner 
between them. Hocker had made arrangements with 
the farmer, to take the boat back to the cabin in a 
wagon. 

Moxley had been compelled to disgorge his plunder, 
and the boys were highly gratified when Jeffries 
handed over the watches and money the tramp had 
so coolly taken from them. 

Half an hour after the trio had departed for Car- 


234 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


lisle jail Bug took an earnest farewell of the boys, and 
struck across the country in a bee line for his home 
at the Gap. His last word to Ned was a renewal 
of the promise to stay at home and lead an honest 
life, and Ned sincerely believed that he meant it. 

‘‘ That load of salt I put into Moxley’s legs turned 
out for the best after all,’’ said Randy in a roguish 
tone. ‘‘ If I hadn’t pulled trigger that night Bug Bat- 
ters would still be treading the path of wickedness, 
with no hope of a reformation.” 

“ Your foolishness had one good result. I’ll admit,” 
replied Ned. “ But don’t try the experiment again. 
It’s too costly.” 

The boys tacitly agreed with Ned. Even Bug’s 
conversion was rather a high price to pay for the 
fright and indignities they had endured at the hands 
of Mr. Dude Moxley. They remembered also that 
the burning of the mill was indirectly due to Randy’s 
foolish shot. 

The certain prospect of the insurance money effec- 
tively silenced any resentment that Mr. Zinn might 
otherwise have felt toward the boys. He warmly 
invited them to stay over Sunday, and the invitation 
was promptly accepted. They went down after sup- 
per to examine the canoes, and allowed them to re- 
main where they were on the farmer’s assurance that 
nothing could happen to them. The grain bag con- 
taining the greater part of the baggage had been 
taken up the house the night before. The tin boxes 
had perished in the flames, but this was a trifling loss, 


A GOOD DEED 


235 


and did not trouble the boys much in the light of 
what might have been. 

Sunday was a day of peaceful enjoyment after the 
turbulent events of the past week. 

“Three square meals were not to be sneezed at,” 
as Randy irreverently expressed it; and not the least 
pleasing incident of the day was the five mile drive 
to a country church with the farmer’s family, on 
which occasion Nugget braved the ridicule of his com- 
panions, and proudly wore his linen shirt and pique 
vest. 

Monday morning dawned clear as a whistle, and 
after a hearty breakfast the boys trudged down to 
the creek laden with all manner of country produce, 
for which the good natured farmer would accept only 
a beggarly recompense. 

Half an hour later the gold and crimson pennant 
fluttered proudly in the breeze as it led the Jolly 
Rovers down the swift and turbid channel — for the 
creek was still a few feet above low water mark. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


RANDY GOES SAILING 

Monday and Tuesday of that week were rather 
uneventful days. The boys paddled steadily, and 
with the aid of the rapid current covered a good many 
miles. 

On both evenings they found suitable camping 
places, and had some excellent sport fishing for cat- 
fish and eels by night. 

The creek was almost at its normal level now, but 
Wednesday morning dawned amid conditions that 
promised a speedy repetition of the high water. The 
sky was hidden by murky gray clouds that hung far 
down toward the earth. So thick were they that no 
mist that blurred the hills and the windings of the 
faintest glimmer of the sun could peep through. A 
creek was in the air; and the east wind had a keen, 
biting touch that was more in harmony with No- 
vember than July. 

Some discussion ensued at first on the question of 
breaking camp under such circumstances, but it was 
finally decided in the affirmative. 

“ This place won’t shelter us very well if a heavy 
rain comes on,” said Ned. “ The chances are that it 
236 


RANDY GOES SAILING 


237 


won’t rain before afternoon or night, so we had better 
make the most of what time we have by choosing a 
better spot.” 

The value of Ned’s advice had been tested on many 
previous occasions, so preparations to start were 
hastily commenced. This was about eight o’clock in 
the morning, after breakfast had been eaten and the 
dishes cleared away. 

Randy was the first one up that morning, and much 
to the mystification of his companions he had been 
working since daybreak in a thicket of young timber 
not far behind the camp. Just as the tent was be- 
ing rolled up he made his appearance with a lurking 
smile on his face, and under his arm a bundle that 
resembled a red flannel seine wrapped tightly on its 
sticks. 

“ Hullo, Randy, what have you there ? ” queried 
Nugget. 

What is it ? ” exclaimed Clay, in a tone that irh- 
plied some doubt as to whether he referred to Randy 
or the object under his arm. 

But Randy was not disposed to be communicative 
just then. 

“ You’ll know what it is in good time,” he replied, 
and then turning to Ned he asked: “Can I have 
one of the tent poles ? ” 

“What do you want with it?” demanded Ned. 
“ Has it anything to do with that piece of tomfool- 
ery?” 

“ Yes, it has,” replied Randy aggressively. “ That 


238 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


piece of tomfoolery, as you call it, is a sail. Til make 
you fellows open your eyes after a while.” 

“ I don’t doubt it,” exclaimed Ned laughingly, 
There will be lots of sport in watching you try to 
sail on a stream like this. And what a sail, too 1 
Why, it’s made out of a red blanket! What put the 
notion into your head, Randy ? ” 

Oh, you can make all the fun of it, you please,” 
replied Randy ; “ you’ll all wish you had one like it 
after a while. Just look at that breeze blowing 
straight down the creek. In an hour from now it will 
be twice as strong, and then I’ll leave you fellows so 
far behind that you can’t overtake me in a week.” 

It doesn’t occur to him that the creek changes its 
course about every half mile,” reflected Ned as he 
resumed his work. If he tries the thing on he’ll 
come to grief.” 

Randy was troubled by no such misgivings. He 
appropriated one of the jointed tent poles and lashed 
it on the fore deck of his canoe beside the queer 
looking sail. The Water Sprite, it may be said, had 
been built with a view to sailing, and it contained a 
mast hole and block just forward of the cockpit. 

Not until the Jolly Rovers had been afloat an hour 
or two did Randy’s opportunity come, for during that 
time the channel was one succession of short, jerky 
curves that encountered the wind every which way. 
But his patience was finally rewarded by a clear half 
mile stretch of water, licked into tiny undulations by 
a crisp down breeze. 


RANDY GOES SAILING 


239 


Randy discreetly grounded the canoe on a little 
grass bar in midchannel, and proceeded to rig up. 
His sail was merely a light weight blanket with each 
of its narrow ends sewed to a trimmed sapling — just 
like a banner, in fact. He attached this to his im- 
provised mast, fastened each end securely, and drove 
the latter into the mast hole. 

The Water Sprite was quite transformed by the 
addition. It presented a quaint, foreign apppearance, 
for the high square sail was exactly like that of a 
Chinese junk, while its flaming red color was irre- 
sistibly suggestive of the craft that ply in Venetian 
lagoons. 

So Randy thought, anyhow, and he was more than 
pleased with his handiwork. He applied the finishing 
touches by tying a cord to each lower corner of the 
sail, and by this device he proudly hoped to control the 
movements of the canoe. 

Randy was considerably overestimating his skill 
as a sailing master, but no one could have made him 
believe it at the time. He proudly seated himself, 
and with a shove of the paddle freed the canoe from 
the bar. 

The breeze quickly bulged out the thirty square 
feet of sail, and away went the Water Sprite like a 
Chinese pirate in chase of booty. It gained speed 
with every instant, and swept by the sluggish little 
fleet of canoes under full pressure. 

Randy turned around to laugh and wave his hand. 
He had to admit to himself that he was very glad the 


240 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


boys were now in the rear, for the sail hung so low 
that he could see no further than the prow of his 
canoe. Still more disconcerting was the fact that the 
cords were useless, since the least jerk to right or 
left threatened to capsize the canoe instantly. 

'' I must keep a sharp eye on the shores if I want 
to stay in midchannel,” thought Randy. ‘‘ I’m good 
for half a mile of this, anyhow, before the wind 
changes.” 

But his calculation did not erhbrace any possible 
obstructions that might lie in the way, and Randy 
was considerably surprised to find himself grounded 
on a ledge of rocks before five minutes had passed. 
It was hard work to get the canoe free, and just as he 
succeeded the boys caught up with him. 

“ Better take the sail down now,” suggested Ned. 
“ You’ll surely run into something if you don’t.” 

“ No danger,” laughed Randy. “ I’ll stop before 
I get to the curve. This is great sport. You fellows 
just ought to try it.” 

He sent the Water Sprite off again by a touch of his 
paddle and skimmed swiftly away from his half en- 
vious companions, leaving a trail of foam behind him. 

It was aggravating to be thus outstrippped and 
the boys started to paddle with all their might. For a 
little while they actually seemed to gain on Randy, 
but a lively puff of wind came down the creek, and 
the Water Sprite took a spurt that made the chase 
hopeless. 

The wind had veered a slight degree, and without 


RANDY GOES SAILING 


241 


knowing it Randy was now paddling straight for a 
bushy point of land that jutted out from the left 
shore exactly where the channel made its abrupt 
bend. Just below this little promontory, and in mid- 
stream, was anchored a long, squarely built flatboat. 

It had three occupants. On a low stool in the 
very center sat a tremendously stout man in a blue 
flannel shirt and wide brimmed straw hat. Beside 
him was a lean, scrawny man sitting on an upturned 
bucket. The other end of the boat was occupied 
by a yellow dog, whose eyes were fixed with intent 
longing on a lunch basket a few feet distant. 

The big fat man held in one hand, a light, slender 
fishing rod, while the little lean man- supported on his 
knees a twenty foot pole that looked like a young 
tree denuded of its branches. Botb were waiting 
patiently for a bite — as was also the dog — and under 
the circumstances it did not occur to’ them to look 
around. 

Meanwhile the W ater Sprite swept onward to the 
jutting point of land, and missed it by little more than 
a hair’s breadth, just as Randy turned pale with the 
sudden discovery of his danger. He breathed easier 
as the canoe passed swiftly on toward midchannel. 
He could see nothing ahead, and was therefore bliss- 
fully ignorant of the obstruction that now lay in his 
path. 

Just at this moment the three boys, coming on be- 
hind, caught a glimpse of the anchored boat and were 
quick to grasp the situation. 


242 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


“Look out, Randy!” cried Ned at the top of his 
voice. “ Danger ahead ! Paddle to the right, 
quick I ” 

Randy turned around and looked stupidly at his 
companions for an instant. Then he seized the pad- 
dle and tried hard to follow Ned’s advice. Too late! 
The Water Sprite was forging ahead now under full 
pressure, and was not to be diverted from its course. 

The two occupants of the boat had heard Ned’s 
warning cry without catching the words, but they did 
not turn around because each happened to have a bite 
at that moment. 

Then the little man jerked out a plump catfish, and 
as he reached for the line, which had swung behind 
him, he saw the flaming red sail looming almost 
overhead. He had barely time to spring to his feet 
and utter a terrific yell, when the collision came. 

The shock tossed the fat man off the stool and 
threw him across the edge of the boat. As the little 
man was knocked down at the same instant, the one 
sided pressure naturally caused the boat to tip, and 
over it went, throwing fishermen, dog, and all into 
the water. 


CHAPTER XXX 


A NIGHT ALARM 

By that strange destiny which oftentimes frowns on 
the good and lends a helping hand to the evil, Randy 
experienced no very disastrous results from the col- 
lision. The canoe rebounded a few feet, and the sail 
fell from the mastpole into the water. 

He was terribly shaken up, it is true, but far 
greater was the shock when he realized what he had 
done. At first nothing was visible but the upturned 
boat and a yellow dog paddling on all fours for the 
nearest bank. 

It was manifestly impossible that the dog could 
have been the only occupant of the boat, and besides 
Randy had heard a shrill cry just before the collision. 
He was much relieved therefore when a head shot 
above the water a few feet below the boat. 

This belonged to the little man, and an instant 
later his fat companion came to the surface. The lat- 
ter had lost his hat, and the top of his head was as 
white and shiny as a billiard ball. 

The little man sounded for bottom, and not finding 
it, swam vigorously for shore. The fat man tried 
the same experiment, and being a good head and a 
243 


244 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


half taller than his companion, obtained footing at 
a depth which brought the water almost to his chin. 
Having thus strengthened his position, he spat the 
water from his mouth and turned his head around to 
see what occult power was responsible for his misfor- 
tune. 

When he saw Randy quietly sitting in the canoe 
a few yards above his face purpled with rage. 

“ You’ll pay for this outrage,” he stuttered hoarsely. 

ril beat you black and blue when I get hold of you. 
I’ll give you six months in the county jail at hard 
labor, you brainless young ruffian — you audacious 
wooden headed idiot, you — ” 

Just then the angry gentleman’s string of epithets 
was cut short in a summary manner, for the wet folds 
of the blanket sail, which had somehow managed to 
drift around the corner of the boat, slapped him on 
the mouth, and the unexpected shock caused him to 
lose his balance and slip under water. 

Such an opportunity was not to be neglected, and 
with quick, furious strokes Randy paddled around the 
upturned boat and headed down stream, bent on es- 
caping the promised chastisement. 

The fat man came up directly beneath the sail, and 
consequently had to go under for a second attempt. 
This time he was all right, and the moment his head 
was out of water and his feet planted on the bot- 
tom he caught sight of Randy, who was just gliding 
by at a distance of half a dozen feet. 

“ Stop, you rascal, stop ! ” he yelled hoarsely. 


A NIGHT ALARM 


245 


Randy did not obey; he only paddled the faster. 

The irascible old fellow glared at him in helpless 
rage for. a second, and then his face lit up with an 
awful smile as he saw the big fishing pole floating on 
the water within reach. The line was fastened in 
some way to the boat. 

It was the work of an instant to snatch the pole 
and tear it free. Then lifting it overhead the man 
made a furious stroke at the rapidly receding canoe. 

Whisk ! whisk ! came the elastic end with stinging 
force against Randy’s back and shoulders. Mad- 
dened by the pain he partially rose and leaned for- 
ward. At the second blow he reeled to one side, 
stumbled against the combing, and went out of the 
canoe backward without upsetting it. 

His enemy was by no means satisfied with what 
punishment he had already inflicted. He dropped 
the pole, and made haste to join the little man and 
yellow dog on the bank. 

‘‘ Ebenezer,” he cried angrily, “ pursue that young 
rascal. Chase him down the creek. If you catch 
him I’ll give you a five dollar bill. 

More from fear of disobeying than from any hope 
of earning the reward, the little man started off on 
a run with the yellow dog at his heels. 

Just at this moment Ned and his companions 
reached the scene of the disaster. The fat man stopped 
wringing the water from his trousers to shake his fist 
at them. 

“You’re all alike,” he growled, “all alike! L 


246 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


never saw a boy that wasn’t a born reprobate. I 
wish I had you out on shore ; Fd teach you a lesson.” 

Ned tried to explain that the upsetting of the boat 
was a pure accident, but the angry man refused to 
hear him. 

Don’t tell me,” he muttered, I know better.” 

Realizing that further argument would be futile, 
the boys made what amends they could by chasing the 
two fishing rods and the hat, and then lifting the an- 
chors of the boat and pushing it to shore. 

The fat man acknowledged these favors with a 
surly nod of his head, and so threatening was his 
manner that the boys hastily retreated from the bank, 
and paddled down stream, stopping on the way to 
recover the sail. 

Meanwhile Randy had quietly swum down the 
creek some distance, pushing the canoe ahead of him, 
and landed on the left shore. The boys could see 
him plainly as he stood on a rock wringing the water 
from his clothes. 

Having no inclination to swim the creek, Ebenezer 
had given up the chase and was now returning along 
the right bank. When he came opposite the boys 
Ned called out : 

“ Say, tell me who that stout gentleman is, will 
you ? ” 

The little man hesitated before replying. “That’s 
Judge Gibson, of Carlisle,” he said finally in a very 
impressive tone. “ You fellers may be glad you ain’t 
sittin’ afore him in the dock this minute — especially 


A NIGHT ALARM 


247 


that chap down yonder. O, my ! wouldn’t you get 
salty sentences though ! ” 

A loud summons from the judge started the little 
man off in a hurry, and the conversation came to an 
abrupt ending. 

The boys soon joined Randy, and finding him in 
a decidedly bad temper, they made as little allusion 
as possible to what had occurred. It was evident 
from the way he shrugged his shoulders that the 
blows of the fishing pole had left a good deal of a 
sting. 

Not knowing what might be expected of Judge Gib- 
son, the boys concluded to be on the safe side, and 
as soon as Randy had changed his clothes they pad- 
died away from the vicinity. 

About one o’clock a halt was made for lunch, and 
as the air was disagreeably damp and cutting, Ned 
boiled a pot of coffee. 

The cruise was resumed an hour later, and during 
the afternoon a close watch was kept for suitable 
camping places. The indications all presaged bad 
weather, and there was no doubt that rain would set 
in by morning — if not sooner. 

About four o’clock a camping ground was dis- 
covered that met with general approval — a sheltered 
spot amid great pine trees on the right bank. In 
the rear was a steep hill, and a limestone spring was 
conveniently close.. 

The boys spent just one solid hour in arranging 
things to their satisfaction, for their stay was likely 


248 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

to be a protracted one, and they wanted everything 
snug and comfortable before the rain came. 

The tent was staked with more than ordinary care, 
and then a ditch was dug around all four sides and the 
dirt thrown on the edges of the canvas. A stone fire- 
place was built between two trees and within easy 
reach of the tent door. 

A layer of fragrant pine boughs was spread on 
the floor of the tent, and both front corners were 
piled with firewood. The arrangements were com- 
pleted by dragging the canoes to the top of the bank 
and removing all that they contained. 

“ That is what I call snug,” said Randy com- 
placently. I won’t mind staying here two or three 
days. How are we fixed for provisions ? ” 

“ Bread will run short to-morrow, but we have 
plenty of everything else,” replied Ned. “ No doubt 
there are farm houses near.” 

This satisfactory report encouraged the boys to 
prepare a more than usually sumptuous supper. 
They washed the dishes by firelight, and just as the 
last one was dried the rain began to fall — at first 
in pattering drops, then in a steady, persistent 
sheet. 

A great log was thrown on the fire, and after a 
short chat in its warm glow the boys drew the tent 
flaps, and were soon sleeping soundly on the soft 
pine boughs. 

Some time in the night Ned awoke, and feeling 
thirsty sat up and reached for the pail of water and 


A NIGHT ALARM 


249 


tin cup which were always kept just outside the tent 
door. 

He took a drink and was in the act of putting the 
cup down when he heard distinct footsteps outside. 
They passed the tent and went on toward the creek. 
Whoever the nocturnal stroller might be he was tak- 
ing no pains to conceal his presence. 

Say Ned, is that you?’’ came in a startled whis- 
per from the rear of the tent. 

Ned recognized Randy’s voice. 

Are you awake ? ” he exclaimed in surprise. 

Don’t make any noise. Some one is walking about 
outside.” 

“ I know it,” replied Randy. “ That’s what wak- 
ened me. My gun is missing. I had it right beside 
me, and now it’s gone.” 

By Jove ! this looks serious,” muttered Ned. 
“ Wait a moment',” he added. “ I’ll take a peep out- 
side. It’s pitch dark and I can’t be seen.” 

He quickly lifted one flap of the tent and crawled 
under. A few seconds passed — full of terrible sus- 
pense to Randy — and then came a clattering noise 
followed by a brief red flash and a stunning report. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


STORMY WEATHER 

It was Ned’s intention, when he crawled out of the 
tent, to dodge behind the nearest tree, where he could 
see without being seen. But as he rose to his feet a 
dark figure suddenly obscured the faint embers of 
the fire, and a second later came the fall and the report 
which struck such a terror to Randy’s heart as he 
waited in the darkness of the tent. 

Ned understood the situation instantly. The un- 
known prowler had stumbled over the fireplace in 
his retreat, and the stolen gun had been exploded by 
striking the stones. 

For two or three seconds there was nothing to in- 
dicate that the thief had been hit by the charge. Then 
a shrill yell rang hrough the woods and another and 
another in rapid succession. 

“ Randy ! Randy ! Come out here ! ” shouted Ned 
in a terrified voice. Light the lantern and waken the 
boys.” 

The next instant Randy burst through the flaps. 

Here is the lantern,” he gasped. “ I have no 
matches. Good gracious ! but you scared me. I 
thought you were shot.” 


250 


STORMY WEATHER 


251 


Vm not, but I fear some one else is,” replied Ned 
as he hastily struck a match and applied it to the 
wick of the lantern. 

That instant Clay hurried out of the tent, and the 
three boys advanced timidly to the fireplace. The 
supposed robber had ceased his outcry, and was 
propped in an upright position against a heap of 
stones. Ned turned the lantern on his face and stag- 
gered back with a cry of amazement. 

Why, it's Nugget!" he exclaimed. “What un- 
der the sun does this mean ? ” 

It was indeed Nugget, and he looked the very 
picture of fright as he rolled his eyes wildly from one 
to the other of his friends. It was several seconds 
before he could speak. 

“ Where am I ? ” he gasped. “ Who put me out 
here in the rain? I thought I heard a gun go off.” 

He was evidently not injured — the position of the 
gun proved that — and the boys began to appreciate 
the ludicrous side of the situation. 

“ You’ve been walking in your sleep,” exclaimed 
Ned, as a sudden light broke on his mind. “ I’ll 
bet a dollar that’s just it. Did you ever do such a 
thing before. Nugget?” 

Nugget hesitated and passed his hand over his 
forehead. * 

“ Yes,” he said reflectively ; “ I used to walk in my 
sleep sometimes, but that was long ago. I thought 
the habit was broken.” 

“ Don’t you remember anything about this affair ? ” 


252 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


resumed Ned. “ You must have taken Randy’s gun 
and left the tent without waking us.” 

“Yes; I have a sort of recollection of it,” answered 
Nugget sheepishly. “ I guess I must have been 
dreaming. I thought I was in Central Park at home, 
and the animals broke out of the menagerie. I had 
a gun in my hand, and when a big lion ran after me 
I ran away. Then I fell over a bench and the gun 
went off — and — and I don’t think I remember any 
more. It was an awful dream. I thought the lion 
would eat me up.” 

This story was more than the boys could stand. 
They laughed so long and heartily that Nugget re- 
covered from his scare and got angry instead. 

“ You fellows would laugh the other way if that 
gun had been pointed toward the tent when it went 
off,” he said sullenly ; “ and besides there is no fun in 
having such a dream.” 

. “ Nugget is right,” exclaimed Ned. “ The affair 
is too serious for ridicule. It’s almost a miracle he 
was not shot. And by the way, Randy, I’ve told you 
often not to keep that gun loaded. Think what 
might have happened to-night in consequence of your 
folly.” 

Randy looked penitent, and for a wonder accepted 
the rebuke quietly. 

“ I forgot, Ned, indeed I did,” he said earnestly. 
“ I put a shell in for snipe this afternoon, and never 
thought about it again. After this I’ll examine the 
gun every night.” 


STORMY WEATHER 


253 


If it was accidental that alters the case,” replied 
Ned. “ And now suppose we turn in. There is no 
use in standing here in the rain any longer.” 

The boys went back to the tent, and to prevent 
a second attempt at sleep-walking they made Nug- 
get take the middle place. Five minutes later all were 
sleeping as soundly as before the alarm. 

The next morning it was raining hard, and in fact 
it continued to rain at intervals all of that day and 
the next. The boys found the time hang a little 
heavy, although they sallied out in rubber coats, and 
had some excellent sport fishing for catfish. 

Cooking was not interfered with, since the fire- 
place was in a sheltered position, and the tent was 
at all times snug and waterproof, in spite of some 
of the heaviest showers that the boys had ever 
known. 

Rain was still falling at daybreak on Saturday, but 
about ten o’clock the sky cleared, and the sun came 
out — greatly to the delight of the Jolly Rovers. 

As the next day was Sunday, and the camp was 
in such a good location, they decided to remain until 
Monday morning. This turned out to be a wise de- 
cision, for shortly after dinner a thunder storm swept 
down the valley, and for several hours the rain fell 
in torrents. By evening not a cloud was in sight, 
and indications pointed to a spell of clear weather. 

Of course the creek was by this time very high 
and muddy, and was still on the rise. The water 
had crept three feet up the slope on top of which the 


254 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


tent was pitched, but as three feet more remained to 
be covered the boys felt no uneasiness. 

There was still higher ground behind them on 
which they could take refuge if the necessity came. 

After supper 'Ned got out his map, and began to 
study it with great care. 

“ Has it occurred to any of you fellows that we 
are drawing near home?” he asked finally. “We 
passed Honck’s dam on Wednesday afternoon, and 
our present camp is very near Sporting Green. 
There are only four more dams between us and the 
Susquehanna, and the distance can’t be much over 
thirty miles.” 

The others were rather surprised to hear this, and 
could not make up their minds at first whether to be 
glad or sorry. 

“ I can hardly realize it,” said Randy. “ The time 
has certainly slipped by very quickly, and yet it was 
three weeks yesterday since we started.” 

“ I hate to think that the cruise is nearly over,” 
remarked Clay, “ but all the same it will be nice to 
get home again.” 

Ned laughed as he folded up the map and put it 
in his pocket. 

“ I know just how you feel,” he sad. “ It will be 
very nice to sleep in a soft bed, and eat off a table 
again, and sit out on the boathouse porch in the even- 
ings ; but about a week after you get home you’ll 
wish with all your heart you were back on the creek 
with the grass for a bed and a rock for a table. 


STORMY WEATHER 


255 


Canoeing is like ice cream — when you once taste it 
you are always wanting more. It reminds me of 
what I read about a famous African explorer. He 
was always glad to get back to civilization for a lit- 
tle while, and then he was more anxious than ever to 
return to his wild life. It seemed as though he 
couldn’t breathe right anywhere but in Africa.” 

“ I hope canoeing is like that,” said Randy. “ Then 
we will make lots more trips together. I feel just as 
you do about it, Ned. I don’t like to see the cruise 
end, but it will be very nice in some ways to get home. 
Won’t the other boys be envious when they see how 
sunburnt we are, and hear all about the exciting ad- 
ventures we have had ? ” 

When will we reach the end of the creek ? ” 
asked Nugget with a rapturous expression. ‘‘ Mon- 
day?” 

‘‘ Hardly,” replied Ned. It will take longer than 
that. But why are you so anxious to get home, Nug- 
get?” 

“ He wants to put on a suit of cream colored 
clothes,” exclaimed Clay with mock gravity, “ and 
a boiled shirt and high collar. He is longing to en- 
case his lily white hands in kid gloves, and his dainty 
feet in patent leathers.” 

As Nugget blushed an angry red, and made no 
reply, it is to be presumed that Clay’s remark con- 
tained more truth than fiction. 

‘‘ You fellows are all counting your chickens too 
soon,” said Ned. ‘‘ A good many miles separate us 


256 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

from home, and as likely as not there are more rough 
times in store for us.’’ 

Lightly spoken and lightly meant were these 
words, but Ned recalled them under thrilling circum- 
stances a day or two later. 

All day Sunday the creek continued to rise slowly 
until it was just a foot from the top of the bank. 
It was stationary at nine o’clock in the evening, and 
when it began to fall two Hours later the boys turned 
in, satisfied that the danger was over. 

The water receded a foot and a half during the 
night, but when Monday morning dawned with a 
clear sky the flood was still a sight to behold as it 
rolled swiftly by the camp, its smooth yellow surface 
dotted with tangled grasses and driftwood. 

As far as the boys could see was high and hilly 
land, but there was no doubt that the lowlands were 
inundated far on each side of the creek. The rains 
had been unusually heavy. 


CHAPTER XXXII 


THE BROKEN DAM 

By nine o’clock the Jolly Rovers were afloat — 
adrift would be a better word, since the swift current 
made the paddles unnecessary, except for a guiding 
touch now and then. It did not occur to the boys to 
delay their departure on account of the flood. They 
were tired of the camping place, and moreover the 
high water would likely be a help rather than a hin- 
drance. 

They found it keenly exhilarating to lean lazily back 
in their canoes and be carried at a whriling pace around 
bend after bend. There was just enough danger 
from submerged islands and reefs, and floating debris, 
to add spice to the enjoyment. 

Here and there, where the Creek passed through 
low country, the fields were inundated, and only the 
tops of the fences could be seen above the water. 

A mile or two below camp a sudden sweep of the 
channel brought into view a red wooden bridge. 
The creek, being wide at this point, the bridge was 
supported in the center by a narrow, squarely built 
pier. 

As the boys came closer they saw that the pier had 

257 


258 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

been shattered by some terrific power. The whole 
face of it was torn away, and the frail portion that 
remained seemed in danger of being carried off by 
the yellow flpod that was surging against it. Tw’o 
men had climbed down from an opening in the bridge, 
and were busy among the loose stones, evidently try- 
ing to fit them into place again. From the left 
shore a little knot of people was watching the opera- 
tion. 

Naturally the boys were curious to know what it 
meant, and when they drew near they slackened the 
speed of the canoes by backing water vigorously with 
their paddles. 

‘‘Did the flood do all that damage?’’ asked Ned. 

“ No,” answered one of the men, stopping work to 
look up, “ the ice did it last winter, and the commis- 
sioners neglected to have it repaired. A pretty bill 
they’re likely to have to pay for their carelessness. 
It’s too late to do anything now.” 

“That’s so,” assented the other man; “we may. 
as well stop work and get out of this.” 

“ But what danger are you afraid of now ?” resumed 
Ned. “ The pier has stood the worst of the flood and 
the water is going down.” 

The first speaker jerked his finger up the creek. 
“ They say that Honck’s dam is liable to break at any 
minute,” he answered slowly. “ It’s a mighty old dam, 
and has been threatenin’ to give ’way fur the last 
ten years. It’s a big high one, too, and has a heap of 
timber in it. Just as surely as that mass of stuff 


THE BROKEN DAM 


259 


comes down the creek with a volume of water behind 
it, this pier will go to pieces and down will come the 
bridge/’ 

“ Do you really think the dam will break ? ” asked 
Ned. 

“ It’s ten to one,” was the reply. They say the 
edges are giving way now. You fellows had better 
get off the creek afore it’s too late. Them cockle- 
shell boats won’t stand much.” 

With this warning the speaker climbed up the pier, 
followed by his companion, and both disappeared in 
the bridge. The boys lifted their paddles from the 
water and went swiftly on with the current for the 
time being. 

“ These rustics have exaggerated the danger, I’ll 
bet anything,” said Randy. “ If Honck’s dam was go- 
ing to break it would not have waited until the flood 
was half way down.” 

I don’t know about that,” replied Ned. The 
danger may be very real.” 

He had given the dam some attention while the 
canoes were being carried around it on the previous 
Wednesday, and he now remembered with secret un- 
easiness that it was very high and rotten, and held in 
check a vast volume of yater. Terrible would be the 
consequences if this were suddenly to be freed. 

“ What are we going to do?” asked Nugget un- 
easily. 

‘‘ That man warned us to leave the creek, and he 
knev/ v/hat he was talking about,” 


26 o 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


We can’t very well take his advice now,” replied 
Ned,” for there is no landing place in sight.” 

There is no use in stopping at all,” exclaimed 
Randy, “ if the object is to wait for the dam to break. 
We might be detained for a week, and then find that 
the dam was as strong as ever. And besides we could 
hear the noise in time to get out of the way. All we 
need to do is keep our ears open and look behind 
from time to time.” 

“ Even if the dam should break the chances are 
that with such a current as this we could keep ahead 
of the flood,” suggested Clay. “ Don’t you think so, 
Ned?” 

“ I’m afraid that’s doubtful,” replied Ned. “ At all 
events I don’t think I should care to run a race with 
the flood even on a start of half a dozen miles. For 
the present we had better follow Randy’s advice and 
keep our eyes and ears open. If we find a suitable 
place I am in favor of stopping for an hour or two. 
We are too near home to risk disaster.” 

This arrangement was satisfactory to all except 
Nugget, and he made no outward remonstrance. 

For the next two hours all went well, and mile after 
mile was swiftly traversed. The boys kept in mid- 
channel so as to reap the fullest advantage from the 
current. 

They looked back from time to time, but neither 
saw nor heard anything alarming. The smooth yel- 
low flood glided between the wooded banks with 
scarcely a murmur. 


THE BROKEN DAM 


26 t 


About midday the creek turned a sharp angle, and 
headed due north in a straight course of fully half 
a mile. Beyond the steep hills that terminated this 
stretch the boys could see the distant blue line of the 
mountains. 

The fears of the morning had vanished, and all were 
in buoyant spirits. The home-coming loomed bright- 
ly before them now, for with such a current the Sus- 
quehanna would soon be reached. 

On the left hand side of the creek stretched a slop-^ 
ing hill, wooded for a distance of two or three hun- 
dred yards as it receded from the water, and thea 
merging into open fields. On the right was a rugged 
cliff full of limestone rocks and scrawly pine trees. 

The boys did not pay much attention to their sur- 
roundings, but when they were nearly half way to 
the bend, Randy happened to glance toward the left, 
and on the very crest of the hill, a good quarter of a 
mile from the water, he saw a little white farmhouse. 

There was nothing in this to attract his attention, 
but as his gaze lingered he saw a man come out on the 
porch and glance up the creek, shading his eyes with 
his hand. Then he turned toward the house, and an 
instant later two women and another man appeared 
and looked in the same direction. 

This was growing interesting, and Randy called the 
attention of his companions to the farmhouse. What 
happened next was stranger still. The little group on 
the porch suddenly caught sight of the canoes far be- 
low them, and one of the men darted quickly into the 


262 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


house. He reappeared a second or two later with a 
shiny object in his hand, and placing it to his mouth 
he blew a shrill discordant blast that echoed far over 
the hills. 

He repeated this twice, and then all of the group be- 
gan to shout and wave their hands. 

The boys glanced at one another in amazement. 
What was the meaning of such an idiotic performance ? 

Suddenly Ned turned pale. 

Great Scott ! he exclaimed. “ The dam must 
have broken, and those people can see the flood some- 
where up the creek. They are warning us to get out 
of the way.” 

The boys instinctively turned to look behind, but 
the first glance revealed no cause for alarm. 

All right so far,” cried Randy. The current 
geems to be getting swifter though, and I actually be- 
lieve the water is rising.” 

He had hardly spoken when Ned uttered a startled 
cry. “ Look ! look ! there it comes I ” 

Around the sharp curve above swept a sloping vol- 
ume of water, yellow with mud and foam, black with 
timber and uprooted trees. It came on with a rush 
and a swelling roar, and as the frightened boys watched 
it with terrible fascination, a section of a wooden 
bridge painted red hove in sight. 

The imminence of the danger drove the Jolly Rovers 
into a helpless panic. Even Ned was frightened out 
.of his self possession. 

The right shore was the nearest, and the boys pad- 


THE BROKEN DAM 


26^ 

died for it with furious strokes, not remembering for 
an instant that it offered the least chance of safety. 
The swift current whirled the canoes down stream for 
nearly a hundred yards before it would suffer them to 
glide into the calmer waters along the bank. 

Randy and Clay, being on the outer side, had more 
to overcome, and were swept beyond their companions. 
Ned and Nugget drifted against a precipitous wall 
of rock that rose twenty feet before its surface was 
broken by the tree or brush. 

They looked hopelessly around them, vainly seeking 
a chance of escape, while louder and louder in their 
ears sounded the hissing roar of the oncoming flood. 
At the base of the cliff the water was already boiling 
and tossing. 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


AN UNDERGROUND CRUISE 

“ Paddle on, quick ! ” cried Ned in an agony of 
fear. We may reach a break in the cliff/' 

Nugget, who was half a canoe’s length in advance 
had sufficiently presence of mind to obey. He pad- 
died off with desperate strokes, and Ned crowded 
him closely. 

A few yards down stream the wall of rock jutted 
out slightly and then receded. As the canoes rounded 
this a great' heaving wave — the vanguard of the 
flood — tossed them high on its crest and cast them, 
like a stone from a catapult, straight toward a black, 
semi-circular hole in the base of the cliff. A furious 
current swept in the same direction, and even had 
the boys realized the nature of this new peril they 
could have done nothing to help themselves. 

Nugget dropped his paddle with a cry of terror 
and clutched the combing. The next instant he shot 
into the gaping hole, scraping his cap from his head 
by contact with the top, and disappeared from view. 

Ned was dazed by what he had just witnessed, and 
his turn came before he realized it. He had hardly 
time to twist his paddle around longwise and duck his 
264 


AN UNDERGROUND CRUISE 


265 


head when the current sucked him under the cliff. He 
heard a quick, grating noise, and then the dim gleam 
of light faded, leaving him in utter darkness. 

The canoe pitched and tossed dizzily, and by the 
cold air that surged on his face, and the spray that 
spattered him, Ned knew that he was moving at rapid 
speed. Suddenly a cry rang in his ears with the 
sharpness of a pistol shot and reverberated through 
the cavern. An instant later he felt a violent concus- 
sion on the right, and reaching out his hand he 
touched the combing of Nugget’s canoe. 

He clung to it with all his might and managed to 
keep the two canoes side by sidp as the current whirled 
them on through the darkness. 

Nugget was not aware of this at first, for he uttered 
another piercing cry for help. It was impossible to 
carry on any conversation owing to the confused 
booming noise made by the water, but Ned leaned to 
one side and shouted at the top of his voice : “ Cheer 
up, Nugget. I’m here beside you. We’ll find a way 
out of this.” 

Nugget must have heard and understood, for he 
was silent after that. 

It was characteristic of Ned to cheer his companion. 
He was thoroughly unselfish, and was always more 
concerned about others than himself. In this case 
his consoling words meant nothing. He was still 
dazed by the overwhelming calamity that had befal- 
len him, and had not begun to realize its extent. 

He remembered the lantern that was in the forward 


^66 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


hatch and the match safe in his pocket, but the former 
was out of reach and the latter was on his right side. 
He could not get it with his left hand, and he was 
afraid to trust the holding of the canoes to Nugget. 
So a light was out of the question at the present time. 

The painful suspense of the next few minutes made 
them seem like hours. The canoes whirled on and on 
with a dizzy swaying motion, but not the faintest ray 
of light broke the intensity of the darkness. 

Ned cautiously thrust his paddle out to the left, and 
it struck something hard with a ringing noise. He 
did not repeat the experiment for fear of upsetting. 

All at once the roar of the water seemed to deepen, 
and the canoes settled into a swift, steady rush that 
made the air fairly sing about Ned’s ears. What fol- 
lowed was never very clear to him afterward. He re- 
membered a dash of icy spray in his face, and then a 
terrible collision that landed him somewhere on his 
hands and knees. 

He was stunned and dizzy for a little while, and 
when finally he staggered to his feet his first thought 
was of Nugget. He called him by name, and a hollow 
groan was the only reply. Even that was better than 
silence, and with a trembling hand Ned drew out his 
match box and struck a light. 

Both canoes lay upset at his feet, and between them 
was Nugget leaning on his elbows with a very dazed 
expression on his face. 

Three more matches enabled Ned to right the Pio- 
neer, procure his lantern, and fight it. Then, seeing 


AN UNDERGROUND CRUISE 267 

that Nugget was uninjured, he scrutinized his sur- 
roundings more closely. 

He understood at once what had happened. The 
underground stream made a sharp curve at this point, 
and the force of the current had thrown the canoes 
far out on a sandy beach. From above, the yellow 
flood came roaring and tossing through a passage some 
twenty feet wide, and nearly the same in height. Be- 
low the angle it plunged on under the same conditions. 

The beach was about ten yards long, and sloped 
back half that distance to a slimy wall of rock. On 
the opposite side of the stream the wall fell sheer into 
the water, and overhead was a Jagged roof that glit- 
tered and sparkled in the rays of the lantern. 

Ned formed his own conclusions as to the nature of 
the place, and they were not entirely unfavorable, for 
the speed and impetuosity of the muddy stream had 
given him a good deal to think about. He dismissed 
his reflections until a more favorable time, and placing 
the lantern on the sand turned to Nugget, who was 
in a pitiable state of fright. 

‘‘Are you hurt any, old fellow?” asked Ned, “or 
only a little stunned ? ” 

“ Oh, I don’t know, I don’t know, moaned Nug- 
get. “ What awful place are we in, Ned ? It seems 
like a dream. I hardly remember what, happened. 
And where are Clay and Randy?” 

“ I hope they are safe,” replied Ned evasively. 
“ In fact, I really think they are. Nugget. They 
landed some distance below us, and no doubt found a 


268 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


place to climb out before the flood caught them.’^ 

'‘And what happened to us, Ned? Didn’t the cur- 
rent drag us into a hole in the cliflf ? 

“ Yes,” said Ned,” “ that’s it exactly, and we are 
now in an underground cavern. Don’t be alarmed,” 
he added quickly, noting the sudden pallor on his 
companion’s face, “ our situation is not so terrible 
after all. Caverns of this sort are always found 
among limestone hills, and they usually have two out- 
lets. This one is no exception to the rule, and I’ll 
tell you why I think so. In the first place you must 
remember that the creek was nearly four feet high 
before that dam broke. The extra volume of water 
is what makes this terrific current through the cavern 
and the very fact that the water goes on through 
without damming up proves to me that it has an out- 
let. 

“ When the creek is at its normal level I don’t be- 
lieve any water flows into the cavern at all, and even 
with a four foot raise I don’t think much goes through. 
It was the first rush of the flood that carried us into 
the hole. And now do you see what I am driving at ? 
As soon as the back water from Honck’s dam has 
spent itself — and it can’t take very long — the 
stream in front of us will become shallow, and then 
all we need to do is to follow it down to the outlet. 
It probably cuts across some bend and re-enters the 
creek. And we have penetrated such a distance from 
the mouth that the outlet can’t be far away. I can’t 
swear to all this. Nugget, but I am pretty well con- 


AN UNDERGROUND CRUISE 


269 


vinced that I am right. A very short time will set- 
tle the question one way or another.’' 

“ I hope what you say will come true,” replied Nug- 
get dolefully. “ This is a horrible place to be in. It 
gives me the shivers to think of it. But if all the 
water runs out, won’t we have to leave our canoes 
behind ? ” he added quickly. 

“ We won’t wait that long,” said Ned. Don’t be 
downhearted. There is surely a way out of this cav- 
ern, and we’ll find it. Our situation might be far 
worse than it is. We have matches and a lantern, and 
there are crackers in my canoe.” 

“Are there?” exclaimed Nugget eagerly. “I 
think I’ll eat a few. You’re an awfully good fellow, 
Ned. I don’t feel half as bad now.” 

“ It’s a good sign to be hungry,” replied Ned laugh- 
ingly. He brought some of the crackers, and both ate 
them as they sat side by side on the sand. 


CHAPTER XXXIV ' 


DESPAIR 

In the course of an hour Ned’s prediction began to 
be verified. The roar of the flood ceased entirely, and 
the water receded from the beach until the stream 
looked as shallow and quiet as a meadow brook. Ned 
waded clear across to the opposite wall without going 
over his knees. 

“ The flood from the dam has spent itself. Fm 
afraid we’ll have to wade through and pull the canoes, 
after us. I can see shoals and ledges not far below. 
I’ll lead the way with the lantern.” 

This proposition was far from pleasing to Nugget,, 
but he uttered no remonstrance. He had implicit 
faith in Ned by this time. 

The canoes were pulled into the water, and without 
delay the boys started down the gloomy channel. 
They pushed the canoes ahead of them, and in this way 
supported themselves and lessened the danger of slip- 
ping. 

For a while they made fair progress and encoun- 
tered but few shoals. The stream was nowhere more 
than knee deep. 

Under these favorable circumstances Ned relaxed 
270 


DESPAIR 


271 


his caution, and the consequence was that his feet slip- 
ped on the smooth stone, and down he went into a 
pretty deep hole. The lantern fell from his hand was 
extinguished, and the canoe shot ahead of him. 

Nugget’s cry of alarm was the first thing that Ned 
heard when he recovered his footing, and he found 
himself almost breast deep in water. He was shiver- 
ing with cold — and with something else as well, for 
he realized the full meaning of the disaster, and for a 
moment he was sick and faint. 

“ I’m all right. Nugget,” he shouted. Stay where 
you are. Don’t move a foot.” 

Then he waded cautiously forward until the chan- 
nel was knee deep again, and shaking the water form 
his hands as well as he could, he drew out the prec- 
ious match and struck a light. 

His canoe had lodged on a reef a few feet down 
stream, but the lantern was gone beyond recovery, 
The situation was serious. Nugget’s lantern was in 
Randy’s canoe, and worse than all, only four matches 
remained in the box. 

“ It’s a bad fix,” thought Ned ; but we must make 
the best of it. Nugget,” he added aloud, “ push your 
canoe along the right side. I think the water is shal- 
low there.” 

Nugget obeyed, and joined his companion without 
difficulty. 

Have you any matches? ” asked Ned. 

"Not a single one.” Nugget went through his 
pockets to make sure, and turned a shade whiter when 


272 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


he saw Ned’s scanty stock, two of which were already 
exhausted. 

“ This is terrible,” he exclaimed huskily. “ What 
can we do now ? 

Not very much,” replied Ned. Keep your spir- 
its up, though; that’s the important thing. Here, 
take these, and burn one at a time.” 

He handed the match box to Nugget, and quickly 
drew the canoes side by side. He took a stout fish- 
ing line from his pocket and tied them together at 
bow and stern. 

Then he rummaged the hatches in a vain search for 
something that would burn. Even the paper that was 
around some of the bundles was damp from spray and 
leakage. 

“ Well, Nugget, we must make the best of it,” he 
said. “ All we can do is to push on in the dark. Is 
that the last match ? ” 

“ One left,” answered Nugget dolefully, and heaved 
a long sigh. 

'' Don’t use it, then. It may come in handy later 
on. The situation is not as bad as it looks. We can 
stick close together and push the canoes ahead of us. 
In that way we won’t run any risk of striking the 
wall. Of course we can’t move very rapidly, but our 
getting out of the cavern is only a question of time.’^ 

“ I hope it won’t take long,” said Nugget. A 
day or two of this would drive me mad.” 

Just then the match he was holding burnt to the 
end and fell in the water. He restored the box to 


DESPAIR 


273 


Ned, and taking hold of the canoes at the stern ends, 
they moved slowly through the darkness. 

No words can adequately describe the suffering and 
thoughts of the two lads during the next hour. Nug- 
get could not repress an occasional complaint, and 
even the stout hearted Ned felt at times as though he 
must cry out. 

The fate of Clay and Randy weighed almost as 
heavily upon him as his own misfortunes He knew 
their chance of escape had been very slight, and he 
feared they had not been able to take advantage of it. 
Little wonder then that he looked forward with al- 
most equal dread and joy to reaching the end of the 
cavern. 

That ordeal, however, promised to be long de- 
layed. It was a painfully laborious task to accomplish 
even a snail-like progress through the dark passage. 

What lay before them the boys could only imagine, 
and they constantly feared some calamity. It was 
impossible to keep the canoes straight. They veered 
to right and left, striking the rocky sides of the chan- 
nel, which actually seemed to be growing narrower. 

Every few moments they stuck fast on a shoal or 
submerged reef, and then Ned had to feel his way to 
the front with his paddle, and dislodge them by main 
force. The water was of variable depth, and half a 
dozen times the boys suddenly plunged breast deep into 
a hole, but fortunately did not let go of the canoes. 

At the end of an hour the situation was unchanged. 
As yet not a ray of light was visible ahead. Ned 


274 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

cheered his companion with hopeful words, and both 
struggled on and on, straining their eyes through the 
gloom to catch the first glimpse of light. 

They felt that their powers of endurance would 
soon be spent. They were intensely weary, and 
chilled to the bone by their dripping clothes.' Con- 
tact with the rocks had bruised their hands and feet, 
and every step was a torture. 

At last the canoes grounded on some yielding sur- 
face and refused to budge. Ned staggered forward 
and found their prows imbedded in what he judged to 
be a bar of sand and gravel stretching across the 
channel. He walked on a few steps to ascertain it’s 
width, and was amazed and frightened by coming in 
contact with a solid wall of rock. 

‘‘Come here, quick, Nugget!” he called hoarsely. 

Nugget waded alongside the canoes, and was soon 
on the bar. 

“What is it?” he cried. “Anything wrong?” 

For answer Ned took the last match from the little 
metal box, and lighted it. 

As the little blaze flared up the boys looked cur- 
iously about them. One brief glimpse revealed the 
awful truth. The sandy bar was in reality the end 
of the passage. Beyond it rose a smooth, slimy wall, 
and overhead was a low jagged roof dripping with 
moisture. The canoes lay in a quiet pool of water that 
was as dead and void of current as a mill pond. 


CHAPTER XXXV 


NUGGET DISCOVERS A LIGHT 

The half-burned match fell from Ned’s trembling 
fingers, and went out on the sand. Then there was 
silence for nearly a minute — a terrible, oppressive 
silence. 

It was broken by a sharp cry from Nugget that 
echoed far through the cavern. He seized Ned by one 
arm and clung to him, trembling from head to foot. 

“ Is there no hope ? ” he wailed pitifully. “ Must 
we stay in this awful place until we die? I can’t 
stand it, Ned, indeed I can’t. Oh! 'do something 
quick, won’t you?” 

Ned was at a loss to reply. His own heart was full 
of misery and despair. What word of comfort could 
he give his companion? Would it be wise to give him 
any — to excite hopes that might never be realized ? 

He put his arm about Nugget, and this seemed to 
comfort the lad a little. 

“We will surely find a way to escape, Ned?” he 
asked in a calmer tone. “ Don’t you think so ? ” 

“ It shan’t be our fault if we don’t,” returned Ned. 
“You must be brave, Nugget — brave and patient. 

275 


276 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

We are worn out and exhausted now, and must have 
rest before we can do anything more/^ 

I was awfully tired a minute ago,'^ said Nugget, 
but I feel now as though I could push on all day if 
I was sure of finding the way out of this cavern. Do 
you think we will have to go all the way back — to 
the place we entered by, I mean ? ’’ 

** I hope that won’t be necessary,” replied Ned. 
** The simple truth is that we have blundered into a 
side passage, that has no outlet. It can’t be very long 
since we got oif the right track, for I remember the 
current against my legs. We will go back after a 
while and find the turning.” 

In this pitch darkness?” exclaimed Nugget. 

“ We will feel our way along the wall,” said Ned, 
** and if the canoes are in the road we^ll abandon 
them. We won’t start now though. Sit down and 
take a good rest. You will need it.” 

Nugget obediently climbed into his canoe, and Ned 
did the same. For a long while they sat thus, side 
by side, without speaking. Ned’s courage was almost 
at the breaking point. In spite of his sanguine words 
he felt that the chance were terribly adverse. With- 
out a ray of light to guide them it would be a difficult 
matter to find the main channel of the stream again, 
and follow it to the outlet which must certainly exist. 
There was danger of falling into deep holes, of striking 
sharp rocks, or blundering into other side passages 
with which the cavern was doubtless honeycombed. 
Oppressed with such sad reflections Ned let the 


NUGGET DISCOVERS A LIGHT 


277 


time go by unheeded, and at length, through very fa- 
tigue, he fell into a kind of doze. How long he re- 
mained thus he did not know, but he was suddenly 
roused to consciousness by a shrill cry from Nugget: 

Look, Ned, a light ! a light ! 

Ned first believed that his companion was either 
dreaming or in delirium, but when he glanced along 
the passage he saw a yellow flickering glare, and out- 
lined against it a tall black figure. 

“ It’s a man with a torch,” cried Ned hoarsely. 

“ And he’s going away from us,” exclaimed Nugget, 

call him, quick ! ” 

The boys made the cavern ring with loud shouts, 
and when a quick response came they were almost 
frantic with joy. 

The torch was motionless for an instant. Then it 
came nearer and nearer, casting a ruddy light on the 
slimy walls of the passage, until the boys could see 
plainly the tall bearded man who carried it. 

“ Found at last ! ” exclaimed the stranger in a 
cheery voice as he waded out on the beach. This 
will be good news for them other chaps.” 

Are our friends safe? ” cried Ned eagerly. Did 
they escape the flood ? ” 

‘‘ Yes,” replied the man. “ Didn’t even get wet or 
lose their canoes. Come right along now, an’ I’ll take 
you to them. I wouldn’t let them enter the cavern 
for fear of accidents. This ain’t the time to explain 
things. All that will come later. My name is Jonas 
Packer, an’ I’m the man what blowed that horn this. 


278 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

morning when I seen you chaps down on the creek.” 

In view of Mr. Packer’s evident anxiety to get out 
of the cavern as soon as possible the boys repressed 
their desire to ask more questions. Pain and fatigue 
were forgotten as they entered the water and pushed 
the canoes back along the passage, while their guide 
preceded them, holding the blazing torch over his 
head. 

Five minutes later they reached the main channel, 
and turning a sharp angle found themselves in swiftly 
running water once more. 

“ This is where you boys got astray, I reckon,” 
said Mr. Packer. It’s good you sung out when you 
did, because I was going right on to the front end of 
the cavern. I didn’t think about this side pocket at 
the time.” 

“Are we near the rear end?” inquired Ned. 

“ Purty close,” was the reassuring reply. “ You’ll 
know when you come to it.” 

For half an hour longer the boys pushed on through 
the narrow winding passage, finding the stream as 
rugged and full of difficulties as it had been earlier 
in the day. With Mr. Packer’s aid, however, they 
readily skirted the deep pools and pulled the canoes 
over the obstructing ledges and shallows. 

Then, somewhat to their consternation, they saw a 
jagged wall of rock towering before them. This was 
•undoubtedly the termination of the cavern, but where 
was the outlet ? 

“ Hold this over your head and stay right here,” 


NUGGET DISCOVERS A LIGHT 


279 


said Mr. Packer, handing Ned the torch. “ I’ll be 
with you in a minute.” 

He waded toward the wall, pulling the canoes after 
him, until the water was above his waist. Then, one 
at a time, he shot the canoes into a long, low crevice 
at the base of the cliff, and they vanished with a grat- 
ing noise. 

He waded back to the boys and led them to a 
narrow strip of sand on the right of the passage. 
Without a word he climbed nimbly up the rocks and 
entered a circular hole where the space was so con- 
tracted that Ned and Nugget had to bend almost 
double and hold their arms in front of them. 

They made several sharp turns, slipped down a 
slide of moist, sticky clay — and emerged suddenly 
into the warm, sultry air of the outer world. 

A glad cry fell from the boys’ lips. A few yards 
distant lay the surface of the creek, and in the angle 
formed by the shore and a rocky hillside that fell sheer 
to the water, was a snowy tent, and a campfire be- 
hind it, and two slim figures standing in the flame light. 
The next instant the Jolly Rovers were united, and 
with joy too deep for words they clasped hands. 

Mr. Packer slipped quietly away, and jumping into 
a boat paddled after the two canoes which had emerged 
from under the cliff a moment before, and were now 
sliding swiftly down stream. 


CHAPTER XXXVI 


HOME AGAIN 

It was some time before the boys could talk co- 
herently. A dry change of clothes and the good sup- 
per their companions had prepared in readiness, made 
Ned and Nugget feel pretty much like themselves 
again, and sitting about the camp fire they told the 
thrilling story of their adventure. 

Then Clay and Randy related their escape from the 
flood, telling how they had reached a break in the 
cliff — a steep, bushy slope — up which they dragged 
their canoes in time to avoid the sudden deluge. 

The missing links were supplied by Jonas Packer. 

‘‘ I seen you two fellows shoot into the cavern,’^ 
he said, “ and as soon as the flood went down a little, 
I took my boat and went across to the other chaps, 
who were pretty badly scared about that time. 
Knowin' all about the cavern, I relieved their minds 
a little and persuaded them to paddle around the bend 
with me to the place where the cavern came out. 
Then we all went inside and waited and waited for 
two or three hours, I reckon. You see I kinder ex- 
pected you boys to come straight through without up- 
setting. 


280 


HOME AGAIN 


281 


“ I was afraid then to wade up the channel for fear 
of more high water. But when evening come, an' no 
signs of you yet, the thing began to look serious. So 
I told those lads to h’ist the tent an’ get supper ready 
— more to cheer them than anything else — an’ then 
I lit the pine torch I’d brought along, and struck into 
the cavern, bent on going clear through if I could, and 
the rest cf my story you fellows know. It was a nar- 
row escape, I tell you.” 

“ It was the v/orst adventure I ever had,” said Ned. 
‘‘ The time we were in there seemed like days instead 
of hours. Is the cavern very long ? ” 

Not more’n half a mile. It took you a good 
while to come through though. It was about eight 
o’clock in the evening when I found you. You see the 
cavern cuts straight under the hill, and enters the 
creek again below the bend. To go around by land 
it’s a good mile and a half. 

In low water both ends of the cavern are high 
and dry, and you can go all the way through on foot. 
Indian Cave is what they call it because the Indians 
used to hide there more’n a hundred years ago.” 

Mr. Packer related several interesting reminiscences 
of the cavern, until he saw that the boys were getting 
sleepy. Then he left for home promising to rig up a 
paddle in place of the one Nugget had lost, and also 
to bring him an old hat. 

A few moments later the Jolly Rovers were sleep- 
ing soundly in the tent, and the dying camp fire was 
gleaming on the muddy surface of the creek. 


282 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


Tuesday was a clear, sunny day, but the boys de- 
cided to defer their departure until the next morning. 
Ned and Nugget felt the need of a little rest. 

After breakfast Jonas Packer returned, bringing 
quite a respectable paddle on which he had been work- 
ing since daybreak, and a broad brimmed straw hat, 
which Nugget regarded as a very poor substitute for 
his trim yachting cap. 

Harvest work required the good natured farmer’s 
immediate return. The boys parted from him with 
genuine regret, and only with the greatest difficulty 
could they induce him to accept pay for the paddle — 
the very least of the services he had rendered them. 

The greater part of the day was spent in furbishing 
up clothes and camp equipments and scrubbing the 
collected dirt and scum of three weeks from the decks 
and sides of the canoes. The boys realized that the 
cruise was about ended, and they hoped by the aid of 
the high water and an early start to reach home on the 
morrow. 

There was no longer any temptation to linger by the 
way, since the lower reaches of the creek with which 
they had been familiar for some years past, were only 
a few miles distant. The chief charm of canoeing 
is to explore strange waters. 

The Jolly Rovers were up bright and early on 
Wednesday morning, and in default of bread or 
crackers they made some cakes out of flour and water, 
and relished them, too. It was a strange coincidence 
that the provisions should have lasted just until this 


HOME AGAIN 283 

time. With the exception of a little oatmeal the jars 
were quite empty. 

About half past seven the Pioneer led the way down 
stream, proudly shaking the faded penant to the 
breeze, and soon the mouth of Indian Cave was far 
behind. The creek was now barely a foot above its 
normal level, but this was quite sufficient to make 
a swift current, and the mile after mile, bend after 
bend fell behind the flashing paddles of the Jolly 
Rovers. 

At ten o’clock they reached the first familiar land- 
mark — Roop’s Dam — and the home coming began to 
seem a reality indeed. The Susquehanna was six 
miles distant as the crow flies, but almost thrice six 
by the snaky curvatures of the channel down which 
they were making their way. 

Midway on the breast of the dam was lodged a 
section of the red bridge, and it recalled vividly to 
the boys the circumstances under which they had 
last seen it. 

They found an easy portage for the canoes, and were 
off again without delay. While the sunny afternoon 
sk)wly lengthened they paddled on through a now fa- 
miliar country, passing Sporting Hill — a famous place 
for bass — about four o’clock, and reaching Oyster’s 
Dam — endeared by many boyish memories — just an 
hour later. 

Another portage, and then away at full speed be- 
tween wooded banks and green islands, to the nail 
works dam, where the air rang to the clatter of big 


284 


CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 


hammers and pitchy black smoke was vomited skyward 
from huge stacks. 

A brief dash through foaming shallows and rapids, 
with the hamlet of Fairview on one side and the 
wooded bluffs of Bunker Hill on the other, a swift 
glide into the shadows of the old Red Bridge — and 
then the Jollly Rovers were on the broad bosom of 
the Susquehanna. They shouted and laughed and 
waved their caps in the air for very joy. 

A mile across the tide were the upper suburbs of 
the city, and diagonally down stream, three miles 
away, was the great yellow dome of the capitol, and 
beyond it, faint in the golden haze of sunset, the 
piers and spans of five mighty bridges, capped by 
clustered spires and roofs. 

Soon the Jolly Rovers rounded the upper point of 
Independence Island and paddled on by the city 
shores until the porch of Randy’s boat house hove in 
view. 

Ned was first to reach the float, and stepping out 
of his canoe he seized the pennant and waved it 
aloft. “ The cruise of the Jolly Rovers is ended,” 
he cried. “ May we make another like it ! ” 

“ And never a shorter one ! ” added Randy. “ It 
will be four weeks on Friday morning since we 
started.” 

They give three loud cheers together, and with 
eager hands carried the canoes into the boat house. 
Then they climbed to the top of the bank, and march- 
ed homeward through the city with the proud step 


HOME AGAIN 


2S5 


and mien of a conquering army. Far more to be 
prized than spoils of victory were their healthy, 
bronzed faces. 

And so the wonderful cruise came to an end — in 
one way at least, though the memories of it will 
never be forgotten. Apart from its keen enjoyments, 
and thrilling adventures, and the freshened vigor of 
health that it imparted, the boys learned more than 
one lesson that will prove of service in after life. 
From that time Randy was less self willed, and better 
able to curb his temper, for nis eyes had been opened 
to the serious consequences that may result from 
these faults. 

Clay had learned to regard practical jokes and 
mocking words in a more serious light than they had 
ever appeared to him before, while Nugget was more 
self reliant and less timid after the rugged expe- 
riences he had passed through. 

Even Ned — to whose constant cool headedness and 
knowledge of out door craft the success of the cruise 
was mainly due — had profited by lessons of patience 
and endurance. And he was happy — with that hap- 
piness which comes to one who has benefitted his 
fellow man — in the consciousness that he had helped 
Bug Batters to the commencement of a new and a 
better life. 

The boys are yet far from the cares and responsi- 
bilities of manhood, and they will probably make 
more than one cruise in the happy summer vacations 
to come, but it is doubtful if brighter memories will 


386 CANOE BOYS AND CAMPFIRES 

ever dim the cheerished wealth of affection they feel 
for the faded pennant, the scarred and battered pad- 
dles, and the water soaked log book, which now 
hangs on the boathouse wall — mute mementoes of 
the time the Jolly Rovers paddled down the winding 
>vaters of the Conodoguinet. 


THE END 


Three Strong Stories for Boys 


Ralph of the Roundhouse; 

Or, Bound to Become a Railroad Man 
By Allen Chapman 

Railroad stories are always dear to the heart of the Americaa 
boy, and here we have one which is clean and clever from start 
to finish. Ralph is bound to become a railroad man, and starts 
in at the very foot of the ladder. He makes both friends and 
enemies, but “ wins out ” in the best meaning of that term. 
Doth. i 2 mo. Illustrated. Price, $i.oa 

Rival Ocean Divers: 

Or, The Search for a Sunken Treasure 
By Roy Rockwood 

A well-written story of the deep blue sea, telling of the perd# 
of a diver’s life and of the marvels to be found at the bottom €.5 
the Pacific Ocean. The search for the sunken' treasure is madf 
by rival parties, and the book will prove inviting to all boys wlNis 
love the sea. 

Cloth. i 2 mo. Illustrated. Price, 6o cents. 

Lost in the Land of Ice: 

Or, Daring Adventures Around the South Pole 
By Captain Ralph Bonehill 

An expedition is fitted out by a rich young man who loi/e^^ 
the ocean, and with him goes the hero of the tale, a lad who 
has some knowledge of a treasure ship said to be cast away in 
the land of ice. On the way the expedition is stopped by enemies, 
and the heroes land among the wild Indians of Patagonia. When 
the ship approaches the South Pole it is caught in a huge iceberg,, 
and several of those on board become truly lost in the land of Ice. 
i 2 mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, 6o cents. 


CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANY 

New York 


NEW STORIES FOR. GIRLS 

By Mrs. L. T, Meade 

mao* cloth, stamped in colors and gold. Each volume 
illustrated. Price per volume, postpaid, $1.25. 


"fhe Girls of Mrs. Pritchard’s School 

Ten full-page illustrations by Lewis Baumer 

This story, as are all Mrs. Meade’s, is an attractive one, full of 
knowledge of girl nature. Its incidents are varied and described 
with vivacity and directness. This new volume increases the 
<^ligation under which this popular writer has placed so many 
readers. 

A Madcap 

Eight full-page illustrations by Harold Copping 

A story which tells of a young Spanish girl who inherits some 
property in England, and comes over to take possession of it. 
Her trials, troubles, and difficulties are vividly described, and, 
with all the girl’s faults, one cannot help being drawn to her, as 
she is depicted with such a sympathetic touch. 

The Manor School 

Ten full-page illustrations 

A sweetly written and charming story of girl life. Full of fun 
And adventure. Told in a manner to interest and amuse young 
oeople of all ages. 

A Bevy of Girls 

Handsomely illustrated 

A powerful tale that all girls from ten to eighteen will enjoy. 
The characters are taken from actual life, and many incidents 
Aie based upon facts. 


CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANY 

New York 


SCHOOL AND COLLEGE STORIES 

By WILLIAM D. MOFFAT 

X 2 mo. Cloth, stamped in colors and gold. Finely illustrated. 
Price, $1.00 


The Crimson Banner 

A Story of College Baseball 

Several books have been written about college base* 
ball, but it remained for Mr. Moffat, a Princeton man, 
to come forward with a tale that fairly grips 3ne from 
start to finish. The students are almost fleah and 
blood, and the contests become real as we read about 
them. Beyond a doubt, the best all-around college and 
baseball tale yet presented. We predict an unusually 
large sale for this volume. 


A Schoolboy’s Honor 

Or, The Secret of Hosmer Hall 

This is a realistic school story of to-day, full of vigor, 
with some exciting contests, on the ice and elsewhere, 
and with a mystery which will perhaps interest the 
older folks as much as young people. Brad Mattoon 
is a thorough boy, no better and no worse tha« 
thousands of others, and the tale is told with great 
fidelity to real life. 


CHATTERTON PECK COMPANY 

New York 


Some Strong Stories for Boys 


Redskins and Colonists; 

Or, A Boy’s Adventures in the Early Days of Virginia 
By G. A. Henty 

Fully illustrated. i2mo. Cloth. Price, 75 cents. 

A rousing story of Colonial pioneer life in the early days in 
yirginia, recounting the many daring and dangerous encounters 
fwith the Indian savages. Full of historic interest. 

Under the Star-Spangled Banner 

By Captain F, S. Brereton 

A vivid and accurate account of the Spanish-American War. 
The hero leaves his home in search of work, finds it on a Cuban 
plantation, and afterwards joins the Rough Riders and partici- 
pates in the battles around Santiago. Cloth. i 2 mo. Price, 75c. 

One of the Fighting Scouts 

By Captain F, S. Brereton 

At the period of the Boer War the hero and a friend are over- 
fcome by two Boers, and compelled to leave home and take 
Service with the British, where the hero is given command of a 
iband of scouts. He becomes of signal service to his country by 
Jiis brilliant exploits. Cloth. i 2 mo. Price, 75 cents. 

Sweeping the Seas 

A Story of the Confederate Cruiser “Alabama** 

By Dr, Gordon Stables, R, N. 

Dr. Stables derives his information from his friend. Dr. 
Uewellyn, surgeon of the “ Alabama,” and from the narrative 
of Captain Semmes. It is a thrilling and highly interesting story, 
iworthy of the author’s high reputation. Cloth. i 2 mo. Price, 
cents. 


CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANY 

New York 


WORLD-WIDE ADVENTURE SERIES 

By Edward S. Ellis 

Cloth, i 2 mo, stamped in colors and gold. Handsomely 
illustrated. Price per volume, postpaid, 6o cents. 

The books written by Mr. Ellis are too well known to 
need a special introduction here. All are bright, breezy, 
and full of life, character, and adventure. They cover a 
wide field, and consequently appeal to all classes of young 
folks. 


The Telegraph Messenger Boy; 

Or, The Straight Road to Success 

In this tale life in a country town is well described. 
There is a mysterious bank robbery, which fills the com- 
munity with excitement. There is likewise a flood on 
the river ; and through all this whirl of events the young 
telegraph messenger exhibits a pluck and sagacity sure 
to win the admiration and approval of all wide-awake 
boys. 

Other Volumes in this Series: 

From the Throttle to the President’s Chair 
Tad ; or “ Getting Even ” with Him 
Through Jungle and Wilderness 
A Waif of the Mountains 
Down the Mississippi 
Life of Kit Carson 
Land of Wonders 

Lost in the Wilds 
Up the Tapajos 
Lost in Samoa 
Red Plunw 

CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANY 

New York 


THE PUTNAM HALL SERIES 

Companion Stories to the Famous Rover Boys Series 
By Arthur M, Winfield 

Ever since the publication of the first volumes in the famous 
•• Rover Boys Series," Mr. Arthur M. Winfield has been requested 
by the boys and girls everywhere to relate more of the doings of 
the Cadets at Putnam Hall. He responds with a new series of 
stories which are certain to add to his well-known reputation 
and extend his already large circle of readers. 

Handsomely illustrated. Bound in cloth and colors. 

Price, 6o cents per volume. 


TKe PutnoLm Ha^ll Ca^dets; 

Or, Good Times in School and Out 
The cadets are lively, flesh-and-blood fellows, bound to make 
friends from the very start. There are some keen rivalries, in 
school and out, and something is told of a remarkable midnight 
feast and a hazing that had an unlooked-for ending. Every boy 
or girl who has ever read a “Rover Boys" book will want to 
peruse this volume. 

Other volumes in this series will be announced shortly 


Bob the Photographer ; 

Or, A Hero in Spite of Himself 


By Arthur M. Winfield 

This story relates the experiences of a poor boy who falls in 
with a “camera fiend," and thus develops a liking for photog- 
raphy. After a number of unusual and stirring adventures Bob 
becomes photographer for a railroad, and while taking pictures'^^ 
along the line thwarts the plan of those who would injure the 
railroad corporation and incidentally clears a mystery surround- 
ing his parentage. v 

i 2 mo, cloth, illustrated. Price, 6o cents. 

CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANY \ x 

New Yoiis> 






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